Rose appeared in the doorway. “Office.”
Carol called after us, “Use protection.”
I left before the class could become educational.
Rose closed her office door. I sat on the treatment table. She remained standing.
“You kissed her.”
“Technically, we kissed each other.”
“That distinction is not helping.”
“It matters for consent.”
“I’m glad you remember the word.”
“That is unfair.”
“Is it?”
Rose set her pen parallel to the edge of her desk. Not angry. Concerned. I disliked concern more.
“We agreed it might be necessary,” I said.
“You agreed to a nineteen-second public kiss?”
“Tessa timed it?”
“She sent me the video with a stopwatch graphic.”
“I’m going to block her.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m considering it.”
Rose leaned against the desk.
“Miguel has the complete file, my edit access is gone, and Amy has written confirmation,” I said before Rose could run the checklist.
She waited.
“It was one kiss.”
“Nineteen seconds.”
“Time is subjective.”
“She grabbed your shirt.”
“That doesn’t make it a relationship.”
“No. It creates the conflict your agreement anticipated.”
I rubbed my thumb over a callus.
“I didn’t plan that.”
