39. Bailey

"Sharli Shames,"I slurred to Whiskey as I grabbed my bottle of wine from the fridge, only to discover it was empty. Had I drunk an entire bottle of wine already? No. Maybe. I shrugged as I grabbed another one. "He was with Charli James," I said, enunciating her name.

There was no way she'd hired him as her plus one. Women like Charli James did not need to hire plus ones. She was a supermodel and a doctor.

"I had her Seventeen cover on my wall," I explained to Duke as he rubbed up against my shin when I tossed the empty bottle in the recycling and grabbed another one from the fridge.

Cole was dating Dr. Charli James. It made sense. They made sense. They looked really good together. It did put into perspective the fact that I had never actually had a chance with him.

"They came together and left together." I burped as I twisted the corkscrew into the top.

For some reason, Charli and Cole being a couple hit different than Lindsay and Cole getting back together. I wasn't sure why. Maybe because I felt like Lindsay had dibs on him or something. Or maybe it was because when I'd seen Lindsay and Cole kiss, it was so fresh from the time I'd just spent with him, and I hadn't had four weeks to miss him and realize just how big my feelings for him were.

"Meow." Duke stood beside the fridge, asking for another dinner. He wasn't going to get it.

"I'm happy for them. They look sooooo good together." I poured my third, or maybe fourth, glass of wine, filling it to the brim, and took a drink, draining nearly half. When I saw how empty it was, I filled it up to the brim once again. "Seriously, they will make beautiful babies. I mean, he said he didn't want babies, but, come on, it would be a crime against nature if two of the most beautiful people in the world didn't procreate."

I hiccupped as I lifted the glass to my lips. In the back of my head, I told myself that this drinking was not a good idea. I only ever hiccupped when I was really, really drunk, which had only happened twice before in my life. The first time, I'd ended up streaking. The second, I ended up in a puddle of sick outside my front door.

But I didn't listen to that voice. I felt fuzzy and warm, and not like someone ran over my dog. Which is how I'd felt since I saw Charli and Cole together. So another glass it was.

"Charli and Cole. Cole and Charli." I took another swig, set the glass on the counter, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Even their names sound good together."

There was a knock at the door, and for the first time in a month, I was certain it was not Cole Crawford. It was probably another delivery from Simon. At some point, he'd lose interest. He always did. I just hoped it would be sooner rather than later. He'd sent me dozens of floral arrangements.

My apartment was starting to look like a funeral home.

"Coming!" I called out as I grabbed my glass to take it with me.

When I opened the door, my head was tilted down, looking for the tablet to sign for the flowers, but all I saw was a man's torso. I lifted my chin and saw that it was not a delivery man. It was the man I was sure it couldn't be.

"Cole Crawford?" I whispered.

"Hi." His brow furrowed. "Can I come in?"

"Nope." I shook my head.

"No?" he questioned.

"No," I repeated, making my voice deep so it sounded like his. In my head, I nailed the impression. But from the unimpressed look on his face, I wasn't sure it landed.

"Can I ask why?"

"Can I ask where's Charli?"

"Charli?" he repeated.

"Dr. Charli James, your girlfriend." I heard myself emphasize the word, but I didn't care. I'd be embarrassed tomorrow. Right now, it felt good to throw that word in his face. If he thought he could just show up here when he had a girlfriend, he had another thing coming.

I was not going to be Cole's Helga. Not that he and Charli were getting married tomorrow. But they probably would. And with my luck, they'd hire me to plan the wedding.

"She's not my girlfriend. That was a job. I thought you knew that."

"Yeah, right. She's a job." I lifted my hands up to do bunny ears for the quotes, but then realized one of them was holding my very full glass of wine. When I saw the precious liquid that was making me feel warm and fuzzy nearly spill, I brought it to my mouth and slurped the liquid up.

"Yes. She is." He stared down at me and asked again, "Can I come in? Please."

"Fine," I said with a sigh.

When he stepped inside, he turned on a swivel doing a three-sixty, taking in my indoor garden.

"Wow. This is…"

"I know. It's a lot."

He read one of the cards attached to the arrangement. "Are these all from…"

"Yep. Simon." I nodded, and my head felt heavy.

"Has my head always been this heavy? What was it the Jerry Maguire kid said? The human head weighs eight pounds? No. That's too much."

I nodded again to check the weight. Maybe it was. It felt really heavy.

"How much have you had to drink?" Cole asked.

"How much have you had to drink?" I snapped back, feeling defensive.

"I haven't had anything to drink. How much have you had?"

I sighed. "When did you suddenly get soooo interested in how much I've had to drink?"

"When you told me your head feels heavy and that it weighs eight pounds and you're holding a glass of wine that is about to spill."

He reached out and tilted the glass back up straight.

"This is my first glass," I told him.

Cole's head tilted to the side, and I could see he didn't believe me.

"Of this bottle," I clarified, and started laughing. For some reason, it struck me as really funny.

His expression didn't change—tough crowd.

"I opened a new one after the old one was empty," I stated proudly. I don't know why I thought he'd be impressed by that fact, but I did.

"You drank an entire bottle of wine?"

"Noooo, the last bottle was only half full." Or not, but whatever, it was none of his business.

"What have you eaten today?"

"Pft, stuff."

"What stuff?"

"I had, um…" I tried to remember what I'd eaten, but my thoughts kept running away from me. I was trying to catch them, but all I could think was how good Cole looked! And how good Cole smelled! And how good his voice sounded!

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked into the kitchen, but stopped when he almost stepped on Duke and Whiskey.

"Hello." He bent down and reached out to pet them. Both of them.

"She doesn't like men," I said. Loudly. I wasn't sure if I was actually yelling or if it just sounded like that in my head.

Either way, Cole ignored me and started petting Whiskey behind the ears. She not only allowed him to, but she started purring and rubbing her face into his palm. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"What are you the cat whisperer?"

He glanced up at me, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a grin that had my lady parts tingling.

"Oh, I get it. Cat. Pussy." I pointed to my vagina. "The cat whisperer."

He chuckled and then turned his attention back to my furry babies. Furry babies. Now, everything sounded dirty in my mind.

"And what are your names?" he asked.

"May I present Lady Whiskerdown and The Duke of Pawstings," I said in my best fancy accent.

"Someone is a fan of Bridgerton," he commented.

"You watch Bridgerton?"

"My sister loves it." He said as he stood. Duke and Whiskey followed behind him like ducklings after their mom. Cole walked right to the fridge, pulled a few things out, then opened several cabinets before grabbing a loaf of bread.

"What are you doing?" I asked him as I sat down at the kitchen table, almost missing my seat. Thankfully, I managed to land one thigh on the edge and pull myself the rest of the way.

"I'm making you a grilled cheese sandwich and some coffee."

"Hmm." I held my thumb up. "Yes on the grill cheese, no on the coffee." I turned my thumb upside down and blew a raspberry.

Why did I just blow a raspberry? I couldn't remember ever blowing a raspberry in my life.

I watched as Cole moved around my kitchen and felt myself getting emotional. I meant to lean forward on the tabletop, but instead, my hand slapped on it loudly—so loud that it scared Duke, who ran out of the room.

Cole did not seem spooked. He just looked over his shoulder and casually asked, "You okay?"

"Do you know that no man has ever cooked for me?"

"Then you've been with the wrong men."

I let out a forced laugh. "Yeah, ya think?"

He looked serious as he flipped the bread with a spatula. I decided to rest my head on the table. I laid my cheek against the flat, cool surface and closed my eyes. Then, I started floating. Floating away.

"You need to eat." A deep voice interrupted my floating.

I opened my eyes and saw Cole standing with a plate and a grilled cheese sandwich on it. As much as I wanted to float again, the cheesy bread did look and smell really good. My mouth watered, so I sat up and put it in my mouth. The first bite I sank my teeth into tasted like heaven. I decided to lay my head back down and eat. Eat and float. Float and eat. That was the last conscious thought I had.