Page 12 of Mostly My Girlfriend
I turned my head. Of course there were.
“You were drunk,” she said in a tone I didn’t recognize. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Do I remember what happened?” I repeated as if she was insane. I’d been having sex for the last several years of my life pretty actively, and I’d never come close to what had happened last night.
“You were drunk,” she insisted. “We both were. It started as a game—”
“I wasn’t so drunk that I don’t remember taking your virgin ass. Is that what you’re suggesting?” I asked, getting angry with her distance, both physical and emotional. Which was wrong of me. She was right to put the wall back up between us. I knew that. I was just pissed it had to go up so damn fast.
I watched her flush and she turned away from me, but she didn’t say anything.
“I imagine you’re sore, but don’t ask me to apologize. It was divine,” I said, searching for a casualness I didn’t feel. I reached for the cup of coffee and realized my hand was shaking. I forced myself to relax and took a sip.
She glared at me like she wanted to slap me, and I thought that was also a good thing. Jules had never been one to tolerate my bullshit and I didn’t want that to change in the face of whatever emotions she was feeling right now.
I was feeling nothing. Because I would not let myself feel anything. I couldn’t. It was time for Jules to go back into the Jules Box.
“I think you know I would never hurt you intentionally,” I offered. “I think you know that even though I didn’t use a condom, I would never do so if I didn’t know for a fact I was clean. And I know you’re on birth control so we can spare us both that conversation.”
“Yep.”
“It was one night. It happened. We put it where it belongs, and we move on.”
One sharp nod. “And we agree to never talk about it. Ever. As far as I’m concerned, last night didn’t happen.”
No, I wasn’t willing to take it that far. I didn’t want it to be something that hadn’t happened. Only something we could keep in its appropriate place, so it didn’t get out of control.
Like a controlled fire to prevent the inferno.
“Oh ithappened, Jules. It just doesn’t have to mean anything.”
She looked away from me then and I thought…maybe I shouldn’t have said that. It sounded harsher than I meant it to. I only meant that we could let ourselves have the memory without dwelling on it.
She hopped off the desk and I saw her wince. I knew what I’d done to her body, to all of her body. She would feel me for days. I tried not to take any satisfaction in that.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” she said as she bent over to pull on her shoes.
“You’ll have an update on the Cameron merger or I’ll be pissed. Then you’ll have to deal with my foul mood, which always puts you in a foul mood so…consequences.”
“Got it…bossman.”
She knew I hated the nickname, so I sneered at her even as I gave her the finger. She laughed and the next sound I heard was the door closing behind her.
We did it, I thought. One night, just for us, and it wasn’t going to change a thing.
I took the two aspirin, sipped on my coffee and thought—overall, I was really very happy about how that had turned out.
Then why, I wondered, was my hand still shaking?
