Chapter 10
NINE
Jen
I feel like such a schmuck running out the door without even thanking Adam for making me breakfast or researching a therapist. Frankly, I’m shocked he did that. I wasn’t really expecting him to take me seriously last night.
That, coupled with the toe-curling orgasm I had, is giving me too many confusing warm and fuzzy feelings that I do not need to be feeling for my walking red flag of an ex.
I need to stay strong and remember all the reasons we do not work together.
Keep my head in the game and find a way to make him leave—and soon.
Because I definitely can’t go getting feelings for him again. I’ve been there once. I know how it happened, so surely I’m too smart to fall for that this time.
I’m so distracted on the train, I almost miss my stop and have to run for the door and slide through as it closes, snatching my handbag through behind me.
Even that doesn’t stop me daydreaming about the perfect way Adam’s dick fits inside me or the deep, needy groans he made while I fucked myself with it.
I can’t believe I did that.
At least I used a condom. Though come to think of it, are zombies immune to sexually transmitted infections? I might need to do a little research.
I mentally check myself. I will not be doing any research, because it doesn’t matter. Last night was a one-off. I will not be going back there, so there’s no need to find out if you can catch venereal disease when you’re already dead.
Besides, we don’t even know how long zombies stay zombies for. What if he only gets a few more years before whatever weird-ass magic that reanimated him stops working? The thought chills me more than it has a right to, and I stare down balefully at my feet for the rest of my walk to work.
My stomach rumbles aggressively when I pass the cafeteria on the way into work, and since I’m half an hour early, I stop for a bagel.
I have regrets about that almost immediately.
It’s dry and crumbly, but I don’t have time to order something else, so I’m trying to wash it down with my coffee when Annie stops in front of my table.
She’s still in her scrubs, holding an extra-large to-go cup. “Hi, Jen. Eight o’clock shift today?”
I nod. “Hey, Annie. How was last night? Long one?”
“Oh yeah. Did you see they’re looking for more shift supervisors? You should apply. I think you’d be good at it.”
I beam. A word of praise from Annie means a lot. “Thank you. I’ll have to check it out.” I’m not truly sure if I’m ready for that kind of responsibility, but if Annie thinks I’d do a good job, maybe I’m underselling myself.
She turns to leave, and on impulse, I stop her. “Hey, Annie? Have you got much experience with supernaturals?”
“No, not really. Most of the supes in the city end up in Bloomsbury. They have a specialist wing at the old teaching hospital.”
“Oh right. Of course.”
She quirks a brow. “Why? You got an interest in supernatural medicine?”
“Not really. It’s more a personal thing. Just… Do you know anything about zombies?”
“It’s funny you should ask me that. I have a friend who is writing a research paper about transmorphological supernaturals—the kind that start out as human.
I believe he’s looking for more zombie test subjects right now.
But I can’t say I know a whole lot about it. Oh, but you said it was personal.”
“Yeah.” I shift a little in my seat. “A friend of mine was recently turned. I guess I’m looking for practical information more than anything.”
She nods. “Well, if you’re interested, I could pass on his number. He might be able to help.”
“Oh yeah. Thanks. That’d be great.”
She gives me a wave and heads out of the cafeteria, and I glance at my phone and realize my shift starts in five minutes.
Scrunching my rubbish into a ball, I toss it in the trash and head upstairs, trying to put aside my thoughts of Adam for the time being.
I wonder if it was a bad idea to say anything to Annie.
Though it’s hard to see how my passing comment could be traced back to Adam, a guy I haven’t spoken to up until recently for months.
Perhaps Rosie was being paranoid when she said not to talk to anyone about it and not to let the authorities know. I mean people are used to supes. They’ve been living among us for years. Why would a zombie be different?
Except I know for a fact it feels different. For a start, I’ve never seen a zombie before. I didn’t even know they were real. You never see or hear about them in the news. It’s never happened to anyone I’ve worked with at the hospital.
Which begs the question: How does someone get turned in the first place? Rosie said they get bitten by another zombie, but that doesn’t line up with Adam’s story. We should probably try to find the woman he went on a date with, but I doubt he even remembers her name.
I’m so in my own head, I’m halfway through my rounds before I realize I haven’t listened properly to anything any of the patients said. I checked their wristbands of course, but they could have said anything.
Cursing myself, I start again, stopping back through each of the rooms I’ve already been to, backtracking and costing myself at least half an hour. I have to work into my lunch break to make it up, so I don’t see Adam’s message until I’ve got only five minutes left.
Adam: dropping by the store. Want anything?
Despite myself, I smile. Who is this guy? This thoughtful, responsible person. He sent the message two hours ago, so he’s probably been and gone. But I’m glad he finally seems to have learned a thing or two. Too bad he didn’t learn this stuff while we were still together.
Then again, it wasn’t me who broke up with him, was it? If he’d have been less of a manchild, that just would have made getting over him harder. I’m embarrassed by how long it took as it is.
Just as I’m about to start the last portion of my shift, my phone buzzes.
Adam: The first lady on my list got back to me and says she can meet for a video call this evening. I think we should take it. It’s only fifteen minutes, and it’s free.
Lady? That sends an irrational jolt of jealousy through me until I realize he’s talking about a therapist.
Wow. That was fast. I haven’t even looked through his list, even though I should have. This was my idea after all. Hopefully this means I’m one step closer to getting my flat back. I flick back a message before I stash my phone away.
Jen: sure. Thanks. I’ll be home for dinner
That feels so bloody domestic. I was one step away from typing xx at the end. It’s too late to delete it, though. I can tell from the two little ticks he’s already seen the message. I stuff my phone in my pocket and promise myself not to think about Adam all afternoon.
Then I fail miserably within two minutes of my resolution when an image of him cumming so hard it flew across the room pops into my mind, and I spend the next fifteen minutes daydreaming about the little sound he makes right when he cums. Something between a whimper and a grunt.
But cuter. I’ve always thought he was cute when he cums. Probably why I used to indulge him so often.
When I finally make it home, I open the door to the smell of roasting meat and garlic. I almost stop to check the number on the door to make sure I’ve entered the right flat. “Adam?”
His face pops around the half wall hiding the kitchen from the front door, and he grins. “Hey. Dinner’s nearly done. I hope you like it. It took me most of the day.”
With trepidation, I drop my bags and walk into the kitchen expecting a charred mess, but apart from a few dishes stacked neatly in the sink, everything looks normal. “What is it?”
“Roast lamb with spring carrots and baby peas. It has this garlic rub. It was actually pretty easy.”
I peep into the oven where a leg of lamb is roasting on a bed of carrots. “Wow. It looks good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. It wasn’t hard. I found a video that walked me through the whole thing.”
Impressed, I go to pick up the dishes from the sink and put them in the dishwasher, but it’s full of clean dishes. Dishes I never stacked in my rush out the door this morning.
I straighten and turn to Adam. “OK, what happened? When did you get so…”
“Domestic?”
“Useful. I was going to say useful.”
He looks a little sheepish. “Well I guess I’ve had some time on my hands lately, and I figured I should probably do some things around here to say thank you for letting me stay. Since we’re not even friends.”
Ouch. Did I say that? I suppose that was a little harsh. “Thanks,” I say lamely. “Let me just wash up after work.”
The lamb is good. Adam sits opposite me on the tiny fold-out table I have instead of a real dining table and watches me eat it, which is a little disconcerting. “Aren’t you even going to eat any?”
He shrugs. “I had mine already.”
I narrow my eyes because something about the way he says this—all embarrassed—makes me suspicious. “Why?”
“Because my dinner was the brains.”
Oh. I try and fail not to make a face. It prompts me about my train of thought from earlier, though. “Hey, I was thinking, maybe we could try to find that woman you went on a date with? The one you thought cursed you? To get some answers.”
Adam sighs. “I checked the app already, but she blocked me.”
“I feel bad for even suggesting this, but where did you meet her? Did you take her back to your place or hers?”
“Mine.”
“What about trying the other dating apps to see if she’s on there?”
Adam shakes his head. “Look, Jen. I appreciate you trying to help, but I’ve been thinking maybe I just have to accept that this is what I am now. I have to move on.” There’s a beep from his phone, and he picks it up. “Oh, that’s Judy now. Are you ready?”
I blink. Judy? Oh, the therapist! I’d forgotten all about that. “Um…I guess.”
“Great!” He reaches over and sets the phone against the wall so we can both see the screen. In a little video box, a lady with bright green cat’s-eye glasses and red lipstick looks down off camera.
Adam presses accept and she looks up with a smile. “Adam? Jen? Hello, I’m Judy. How are you tonight?”
“Hi, Judy.”
I have my mouth full of lamb, so I give her an awkward wave.
“Thanks for joining me. I’m sure you have a few questions of your own, so I won’t take up the whole session by talking, but I thought I’d start by asking you to tell me what made you seek out a therapist. Adam tells me it was your suggestion, Jen.”
Swallowing quickly, I shoot him a look across the table, which he ignores, and turn back to the phone. “Ah, yeah. I guess you could say that. Look, I don't want you to get the wrong impression about us.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Jen.” Judy smiles serenely. “I’m going to let you both tell me exactly what your relationship goals are. And whatever you decide, I’m here to support you; just know that.”
I almost choke on a sip of water. “We’re not in a relationship!”
“You’re not?” Judy leans a little closer.
“No. We used to be—”
“Ah.” She adjusts her glasses. “I see. Well I am very experienced at easing people out the other side as well. If that’s your choice…” She lifts her brows.
“It is!”
Adam is watching me with a curious expression on his face. “I mean…”
I stare at him. “What do you mean? You’re the one who broke up with me! You can’t take that back now just because you’re dead!”
Adam holds up his hands. “Listen, I've had a lot of time to think lately, and I miss us. I think we didn’t give it a proper chance.”
I glare at him. “Don’t spring this on me now. I gave it a chance. It was you who left.”
“You’d given up way before that,” he says bluntly.
My mouth drops open, and it feels like a full minute before I can answer. When I’ve finally dragged my wits back into shape and composed myself enough to reply, Judy cuts in.
“Adam, can you tell us a little more about that? What did it look like to you when you thought Jen had given up?”
“This is ridiculous—” I begin.
Judy holds up her hand. “Hang on, Jen. I’d like to hear from Adam.”
What is going on here?
He gives me a serious look. “Well for one thing, you never wanted to have sex.”
“We had sex!”
“Once a month. If that.”
“I was tired.”
“You weren’t that tired.”
OK he’s right, but I never thought he knew it.
“Besides, I would have been happy just to eat you out.”
I flush. We’re really doing this in front of Judy? “OK, I was mad at you. It’s hard to feel like fucking someone who never even takes out the trash!” What now, Adam?
“Hmmm. I hear that you had a lot of frustrations in the relationship, Jen,” says Judy. “Did you ever talk to Adam about them?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Adam replies at the same time. “This is news to me.”
Oh my god. Was he blind as well as stupid? How did he miss all the things I used to do for him?
Judy nods like she’s uncovered an ancient hoard of treasure.
“It sounds like there are things both of you could work on whether it’s in this relationship or for a future one.
And I can help with that. That’s all we have time for today, but this gives us a good groundwork to build on.
I’m going to send you through some observations I’ve made, and if you decide you’d like to book for a full hour, I have an appointment free next week. You can just let me know.”
I stare at the screen, too angry for words. Why have I come out of this with things to work on?
“That sounds great,” says Adam. I could slap him!
The call ends, but I’m still fuming. I stand, snatching my plate from the table. “We’re not doing therapy.”
He frowns. “But you said—”
“Forget what I said. We’re not doing therapy because we’re not a couple, and we’ll never be a couple again.” I storm to the kitchen, dump my plate in the dishwasher, and walk straight to the bedroom and close the door. As far as I’m concerned, the conversation is over.
That chapter in my life is over and I’m never going back.