As the lust faded, it was like she’d just fallen through thin ice and
plunged straight into icy water. She could practically feel her extremities
going numb, the breath rushing out of her lungs, the world spinning away as
she sunk straight to the bottom.
“Kiera?”
“Yes?” She whipped around wildly at the sound of her name.
Romi had slid off the table and was pulling her dress back down. One
look at Kiera’s face and her own face took on a shadow. She just knew. She
knew Kiera was freaking out inside. That she wasn’t ready for the
aftermath. She didn’t do aftermath, period. All of her encounters were no
strings attached. They had to be that way. She should have made sure Romi
understood that right at the start. She would have, but Romi was different.
There was something there that Kiera had never felt before and it made her
wild and careless. That’s the only way she could rationalize her behavior to
herself in her moment of panic.
“Can we just…?”
“Pretend like it never happened?” Romi obviously tried to keep the hurt
from reflecting on her face, but it shimmered across the surface like a
brutally hot sun reflected on a placid surface of water. Kiera couldn’t see
what was under that churning surface, but she could definitely see the
reflection. It made her stomach twist brutally.
“I was going to say be professional,” she forced out. “Not pretend like it
never happened. We both know it happened.”
“But you don’t want it to happen again.”
Kiera had to force down a swallow that actually hurt her throat, like
gulping water down the wrong way. The burn of sorrow rose sharply in her
chest. “What I want isn’t…that is—”
“I understand,” Romi said abruptly. She schooled her face so quickly that
the pain disappeared. Kiera hated that emotionless expression more than
anything.