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“God, that was amazing.”
“My name is Colton,” I tell her. “You just said it a few seconds ago.”
At my joke, she pitches into another fit of laughter, clearly the beginning of a pattern for us.
Though as we finally begin to rinse and wash then dry off our bodies and head upstairs before Teddy has awoken, I can’t help but wonder if us making jokes about our intimacy is how we’re deflecting the nearly overwhelming feelings it causes.
If that’s the case, I doubt either of us is truly understanding the mess we’re potentially getting ourselves into.
***
That evening, after I’ve put Teddy to bed, I knock softly on Emily’s bedroom door.
She spent a bit of time with us in the living room watching some cartoons I put on for Ted, but then she retreated up to her room a few hours ago, saying she had homework to work on. Ever since then, I’ve been allowing my mind to wander.
Last night and this morning with Emily was amazing. It’s not a secret that we are clearly very sexually compatible, which is honestly so refreshing after being in a relationship with someone who very obviously preferred to get her fire stoked elsewhere.
But I need to make sure she doesn’t expect this to become…something else. I’m still fresh out of a very painful relationship that ended without any closure. I have a son who still needs to be the center of my focus and attention, and I’m still working through what this next stage of life is going to look like.
So, while I don’t envision Emily being the type to have diamond rings floating through her head so soon, I still feel like it would be smart of me to set the parameters so we’re both clear on what’s happening.
And what isn’t happening.
Emily’s door opens, and she stands there with her hair pulled back in a messy bun, wearing a loose, somewhat see-through tank top and a pair of underwear and fuzzy socks.
“Hey.”
She smiles at me, and just like that I almost forget why I knocked on her door in the first place. All I can think about is kissing that smile off her face, kissing that scar on her lip, and pushing her back into her room.
I do my best to shove those thoughts aside.
“Do you have a few minutes?”
Emily bobs her head and pushes her door open wider, indicating I should come in. I do, closing the door behind me to make sure the sound doesn’t carry to Teddy’s room.
“What’s up?” she asks, hopping onto her bed, surrounded by her business books and laptop again, this feeling a bit like a repeat of our conversation a few weeks ago.
Leaning back against the door, I watch her for a minute as she seemingly organizes herself, shifting some books around and clicking a few things on her laptop before closing it and setting it to the side.
“I just wanted to talk to you about…”
I pause, not exactly sure what I should be saying.
“About what happened last night. And this morning,” she says.
My lips tilt up at the sides. I don’t know why I was worried about how to begin this conversation. Emily is nothing if not direct.
“Yeah, actually. About that.”
She nods. “I’m glad, because I think it’s important we talk about it, too.”
At that, my eyebrows rise a bit. “Well, by all means, feel free to take the lead,” I tell her, interested to see where this conversation will go at her direction.
“Well, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. I am not looking for sex to be a part of my nanny responsibilities.”
I nearly laugh, but then my face falls when I realize she’s serious.
“Emily, absolutely not. That is…” I shake my head.
