Chapter 4
The waitress delivered two mugs of steaming black coffee to our table.
“Cold?” He smiled slightly, sliding my coffee towards me.
“Shush,” I warned, accepting the coffee and dumped a heap of sugar into the mug, stirring it with more force than was necessary.
“Here.” Cohen pulled his long sleeve T-shirt over his head, leaving him in just his T-shirt, and he held it out to me across the table.
“Thanks.” I shrugged it on. It was still warm and smelled like boy. Delicious boy. Boy that had already turned me down once today. Or was that yesterday now? Not that it mattered. I wouldn’t be throwing myself at him again. Period.
I rolled up the sleeves of Cohen’s shirt and tried to avoid inhaling the scent of it.
The waitress was soon back with our pancakes, and left a plate in front of each of us. The pancakes were as big as dinner plates and stacked several high. A scoop of butter melted in the center and the scent of warm vanilla wafted in the air.
“Wow. This is bigger than I expected.”
Cohen slid the syrup toward me. “Think you can handle it?” His smirk was naughty, playful.
Ugh. Why did he have to be so hot?
“Oh, I can handle it like a Goddamn champ.” I cringed. What was I even saying?
Cohen chuckled and scooped the heap of butter off his pancakes and onto the saucer beside his plate. I guess you didn’t get a body like that from eating globs of butter.
I had no such worries. And I freaking loved butter. I used my knife to smear the melted puddle all over mine.
“You have a girlfriend?” I asked after swallowing a delicious bite of melt-in-your-mouth pancake.
He nodded, taking another bite. “I’ve sort of been seeing someone.”
“But she wasn’t over tonight?”
“She doesn’t stay over,” he commented, wiping his mouth.
That was curious. Was he the kind of guy that refused to allow a girl to sleep over? Hm. Cohen seemed to provoke more questions than answers.
“What about you? Boyfriend?”
“Nope,” I said, a little too proudly.
He chuckled. “I have a feeling there’s a story there.”
I shrugged. “Not much to tell, I’m just not looking for a relationship. Besides, once I get my doctorate in another year or two, I’ll probably be moving on. I want to have fun and not take things too seriously.”
“Hm.” Cohen looked down, fumbling with his napkin. Had I said something to upset him?
I focused on my breakfast, or whatever meal you called this, given that it was three in the morning.
I realized Cohen had set down his fork and was watching me eat. “What are you studying?”
“Psychology,” I answered, my tongue darting out to lick a drop of syrup from my bottom lip. “What about you?”
His eyes followed the movement of my tongue, and he swallowed roughly before answering. “Business. I figure its generic enough that I’ll be able to get a job doing almost anything.”
I nodded. I continued nibbling on my breakfast, while Cohen talked. I learned that he went to school part time and worked as a bouncer at bar downtown in addition to being a volunteer firefighter.
After breakfast, Cohen walked me to my door and stood with me on the covered porch. The moonlight and chirp of crickets in the night air had a dreamy, calming feeling about it.
We stood facing each other. The shadows turned him into an even more handsome creature than before, if that was even possible. He was tall and lean, not an ounce of fat on his body. Square jaw, full mouth, gorgeous blue eyes and short hair.
Cohen hesitated at my front door.
“Thanks for breakfast,” I murmured.
He nodded. “Anytime.”
I stripped myself of his oversized long-sleeved shirt and handed it back to him. His eyes wandered south to my chest for the briefest of seconds, but enough for me to register he liked what he saw. What can I say? I was blessed in the boob department. Full C’s, yet still perky. And currently sporting hard nips again. Damn. This time it had nothing to do with the chill in the air and everything to do with the look on Cohen’s face. He was a boob man. It was clear as day.
He cleared his throat. “Will you be okay?”
Oh yeah. There was a fucking bat in my apartment. This wasn’t a date. It was a pity-outing with a neighbor. That was all. Damn. Delusional much, Liz?
I shook my head. “Well, I’m not sleeping in there.” No way, nuh-uh. “I’ll just have to wait a few more hours until I can call the landlord to come over.”
Cohen frowned. “What are you going to do in the meantime? It’s…” He glanced at his watch. “…way too fucking early.”
I laughed. “I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine. Thanks again.”
I turned for my door, but Cohen grabbed my wrist. “Come on. You’re coming upstairs with me.”
“I am?”
He pressed his other hand into my lower back and guided me to the staircase. “Up you go.”
I blanched at his presumptuous behavior, yet obediently started up the stairs, relieved that I wouldn’t have to wait alone.
When we reached the top, Cohen unlocked the door and pushed it open for me to enter. His apartment was tiny compared to mine. Now that I wasn’t all frazzled from the bat incident, I noticed how quaint it was. The pitched ceilings were architecturally interesting, but made it too low for him to comfortably walk in certain spots of the room. The floors were wooden and creaky. I was surprised I’d never heard him walking above me before. He tossed the shirt he’d given me on the back of the sofa.
“Are you tired?”