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He looked over at the kids a few seats ahead again to make sure they still slept. Then, he said in a low tone, looking at her. “I was inappropriate with you.” Inappropriate didn’t come close to describe what happened, but hell, he had to start this conversation somehow.
She gave him a sideways glance, then stared down at her lap. “That’s why I didn’t want to have this chat. You don’t have to say anything or feel bad. We both wanted it. It happened. That’s it.”
He shuffled in his seat, also uncomfortable. In any other circumstances, he’d agree with her. Talking made it worse, but given the uncertainty and lack of precaution, he needed to get this awkward subject out of the way. “Yes, I appreciate your pragmatism, but I wasn’t careful. We didn’t use protection.” And I’m sorry, he added to himself, opting not to voice it not to make it seem like he regretted their time together.
He should regret it, by all means. But, he couldn’t bring himself to. If that made him a bastard, at least he’d be an honest one.
“Oh.” She looked at the ceiling, then at him. “I’m on the pill. Are you safe?”
“I am. One hundred per cent.”
She exhaled. “Great.”
He relaxed, stretching his legs, then letting out a chuckle. “I usually have this talk before sex.”
She joined him, her nervous chuckle following his. “I understand.”
He wanted to keep the lightness of their interaction, but a nagging doubt stabbed at him, pushing him to one more question. “Are you okay? I mean, I keep thinking about what happened. I never slept with an employee before, Poppy.”
She tapped his hand, and the brief contact shot a surge of awareness up his arm, quickly sneaking to other parts of his body like branches in a curvy vine. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl and you’re off the hook. And, you know, we’re two adults and we shared a… nice moment.”
“Nice,” he said under his breath, hating how sarcastic he sounded. Butthurt, too. Their hookup had been faster than he would have intended, but calling it nice struck a nerve.
“Yes.” She nodded quickly. “Is that all?”
“Of course.”
She stood, and went back to her original seat.
Their exchange chronologically regressed his age by at least twenty years, and he became an insecure teenager with a crush on the hot cheerleader. His rationality told him to be happy she handled it so well and was so mature about their sexy encounter. Life would continue as usual, and she wouldn’t hold it against him. She also didn’t demand they start a relationship, or resigned, threatened to sue him.
His other side, though, his fragile ego had been hurt. Sounded lame, and he felt it too, but he wished she hadn’t gotten over their having sex so quickly. Because he doubted he’d have the same experience. In fact, a rebellious part in him longed to show her just how nice they could be together. Again—and this time, without clothes.
