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“Another?” Her voice rises to a higher pitch.
“Yes, another. We share the same bed every night. Think you can handle that?” I grin at her and rock back on my heels.
She steps forward this time and pokes me in the chest. “I can handle anything you throw at me, Troy Parker.”
“We’ll see.” With a satisfied smile dancing on my lips, I turn around and grab my wine from the breakfast bar and make the short distanceback to her. “Let’s drink on it, shall we?”
She lifts her glass to up me and we clink, a bit like a handshake. Our gazes fixed on each other as I gulp my wine down. “I’ll get something drawn up. I don't want you to think I’m taking you for a ride or trying to cheat you out of your inheritance a second time.” I lean down and kiss her cheek she tenses when my lips meet her skin. It makes smile.
Six months to get her out of my system is all I need. Leaving her house, I jump into my car feeling pleased with myself, that finally, I’ll have her exactly where I’ve wanted her after all these years, without her being able to run from me.
CHAPTERELEVEN
EMILY
As the door closes, I think I’m having palpitations, my heart thunders away in my chest as my body sags against the counter and I let out a relieved sigh. What the hell have I just agreed to? I grab my glass and phone and trudge into the living room, letting my body sink into the soft cushions of the couch. Closing my eyes, I lay my head back. There is no denying how he makes me feel. As soon as the man is near me, I turn into mush. My heartbeat quickens as a hot flush covers my whole body, my skin tingles from where he touched me. Can I really live with him for six months? Do I have the nerve to try? I know I told him yes but now he's gone and I’m alone, I’m not so sure. The whole first year of uni poor Kellie had to put up with me moping about him, but she’d tell me it was okay. I have so much to thank that woman for.
My eyelids grow heavy, and I feel myself drifting off to sleep. I blame Troy for everything. What with the reading of the will, the emotions of it all, oh and the amazing sex, I’m just exhausted. Then his proposal on top of everything else? It’s been like a whirlwind. Maybe I should order takeaway and get an early night. I need to be at the gallery tomorrow anyway. Looking at my watch I see it’s almost five. Plucking the Chinese menu from the magazine rack I scan it quickly to see what I fancy. As I grab my phone to put my order in to the restaurant, I see a message sitting there from Troy. I never heard my phone chime; it must still been on silent. I ignore his message for now, it’s only going to be some smug comment and I’ve had my fill of cockiness today. I ring the number for the restaurant and order my favourite, sweet and sour chicken, egg fried rice, prawn crackers and a side of spring rolls. Once the order’s in, I top up my wine glass, turning on the TV while I wait. I fancy a romcom, something that’ll take away the seriousness of the day, and what’s better than Bridget Jones’ Diary.
With my glass filled I tune into Netflix, find my movie, then click play. I curl up into the corner of the couch and wait for my dinner to arrive.
My head is bangingwith the worst kind of headache, wine flu. I haven’t slept the way I thought I would when I polished off that first bottle of wine and started on the next. My early night ended up with me going to bed at almost midnight because not only did I watch the first Bridget Jones, then also ended up watching number two and three. I didn’t even concentrate on the films, no, my mind was on Troy fuckhead Parker and his proposal. He can have his pick of women, why me? Why does he want to drag up the past and have me on his arm. It’s no secret that I don't trust him fully, my heart may have yearned for him once upon a time, but I’ve been doing okay. Maybe I haven’t got over him, which was how I ended up fucking him in my childhood home.
As my phone chimes with my alarm, I hold my head attempting to ease the sharp pain that’s slicing through it, and reaching out with my other hand, I turn the obnoxious beeping off before it gets any louder. I can’t take that noise today. Troy’s message is still unopened in my inbox, oops. He won’t like that. I throw my phone down on the duvet rolling to the edge of the bed and sit up. My head hurts even more now. Dropping my head into my hands I circle my temples softly with my fingers. “Fuck.” I need coffee and paracetamol and another shower, all in that order. The time is already seven, so I shoot Kellie a text and let her know I’ll be in around nine. She has keys anyway and she doesn’t need me first thing. I have to get ready for workandpack a suitcase.
My head feels like someone is chipping away at it with a chisel, as I stand upright, a steady bang, bang, bang reverberates around it. Maybe that extra half a bottle of wine wasn’t such a good idea after all, I think as I slowly take the stairs. My fingers curl around the banister, gripping it tightly in case I misplace my footing. It wouldn’t be hard; my body isn’t in sync with my brain yet.
Once I make it to the kitchen without occurrence I switch on the kettle. I’m on autopilot. Grabbing my cup, I add two sugars and a spoon of coffee while I wait for it to boil. I locate the box of tablets in the drawer, pop two from the blister pack and cup them in my hand. I wash out last night's wine glass and fill it with fresh water and swallow them down. When the kettle clicks off, I pour the water into my cup and stir my coffee. I can’t wait for that first sip. I usually have milk with my coffee, not today. Today I need it black and strong, anything to rid me of this godforsaken hangover. I thread my fingers through the handle and take it back upstairs with me, taking another sip then leave it on the dressing table while I shower.
My phone sits on the bed, like it has a flashing beacon coming from it. I know I have to open Troy’s message, but I can’t bring myself to do it.It can wait a bit longer, I think to myself, I’m not prepared for him yet.
Turning on the shower, I step under the cool spray. It soon cools my overheated body until it’s back to a normal temperature. The warm water feels nice on my head, so I stand there for a few minutes and relax.
Once I’m done, I feel a little more human and I dress for work. I pull a case from the spare room and start throwing my clothes in. I’m not going to fit six months’ worth in so I instead I pack my favourites. Then pack my mac, my iPad, chargers, and my kindle. Then grab my toiletries from the bathroom. Once everything is packed in a holdall, I throw them into the car. It’s going to be a long day and I can’t even come home and relax. I pick up my cup taking a large gulp of cold coffee and cringe as it hits the back of my throat. “Yuck,” I throw the rest down the sink, rinsing it out beneath the hot tap before quickly drying it up and hang it back on the mug tree on the counter.
As I look around my small kitchen, I feel like I’m leaving the place for good, not just six months. That is if I make it the whole six months. If I have to put up with his shit for the whole time, I’ll end up telling him to shove the inheritance up his arse. But then a crazy part of me wants to try. I know it’s not conventional, but who knows? Maybe he’ll surprise me. Fill a gap that I’ve been missing for all this time. Maybe, I just need to get him out of my system. To close that chapter in my life.I’m an adult now, I can handle this.
With a fraction of my belongings in the car, I pick up my handbag and leave. I look back as I pull the door closed, not having a clue if I’m doing the right thing or not.
As I near the gallery my stomach rumbles and I remember that I haven’t had breakfast. I pull into my parking spot, grab my handbag from the passenger seat and head inside.
Kellie is on the front desk staring at the computer screen. She glances up smiling when she sees me. “Oh hey, Em.”
Lifting a hand up, I wave. “Give me five minutes. I need hot coffee, a slice of toast and I’m all yours.” I tell her as I quickly stride past her.
Dropping my bag down on the table, I put some bread into the toaster and make us both some coffee. I take my phone out and still ignore the unopened message and as I put it down another comes through.
Are we playing games again,Emily?
Ugh,what more does he want from me? I’ve agreed to his proposition, I’ve uprooted myself yet all he’s bothered about is a fucking text. “Fuck off.” I whisper to my phone as I butter my toast. I fold it in half and eat it as fast as I can. It’s not very professional shovelling toast down my throat if a customer walks in. As soon as I swallow the last bit I lodge my phone beneath my arm, pick up both cups and go out the front.
I pass her the cup, remove my phone from my armpit and place it behind the desk.
“Wow, you look tired.” Kellie has a habit of brutal truth, there’s no sugar coating with here. If I look like shit, then she’ll tell me. There’s no fear about that.
“No not tired. This, my friend, is called wine flu.”
“What happened?” She sighs and sips on her coffee.
