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For the next two and a half hours, I obey her command. We make love in every way we can think of until we're both too jeeked to do it anymore. Kate is inventive and sensual, though I never would have guessed she could be this way. At work, she acts rigid and uptight, but I guess she needs to be that way with her clients—assuming I'm not the only pigheaded eejit on her roster.
After our two and half hours of "one more time," I try to kiss her goodbye at the door.
She holds a hand up between our mouths. "We are not dating, Callum. A goodbye kiss is not required."
I shake her hand. "Ring me later when you get randy again."
"Not going to happen. I'm over it. See you Monday."
The bloody-minded woman seems to honestly believe she can forget about our morning of cracking sex and act like my therapist again on Monday.Mhac na galla. I don't know if I can do that. Everything changed between us today, even before she climbed onto my lap in my apartment. We got to know each other a wee bit, just enough that I need to know more about her. I need to date her.
But she's having none of it.
While I'm driving back to my apartment, I suddenly remember what's waiting for me there—or rather,whois waiting for me.Magairlean. Hugh will be there. I cannae tell him what Kate and I did this morning. After vowing I didn't like her and had no interest in the lass outside of therapy, now I've gone and shagged the woman for two and a half hours. I should confess to Hugh, but not without talking to Kate first.
Aye, procrastination sounds good. And aye, I've become a bleeding coward.
When I walk into the apartment, I still haven't decided what to do about Hugh and Kate. He has a crush on her, or whatever people call it these days, but Kate has said she's not interested in him. They're mates, that's all. Despite that, Hugh plans to work his magic on her and win the lass's heart.
The lass I just fucked repeatedly.
Well, it was only the one time, according to my definition of the term. That doesn't make me feel like any less of acacan. I had a poke with the girl my best mate likes.
Hugh rushes out of the kitchen wearing an apron and holding a large wooden spoon. "Where have you been?"
"I went for a walk."
"That was hours ago. I rang your mobile, but you didn't answer. Left you voice mails too."
Aye, my phone had been in my trouser pocket—and I'd left my trousers in the living room of Kate's flat when I carried her into the bedroom. I hadn't thought to check my voice mail later.
"I'm sorry," I tell Hugh. "Didnae think I was gone that long."
"What were you doing for hours? That must've been the longest bloody walk in history." He squints at me. "Isn't it bad for your knee to walk that far?"
"I had other things to do too." That other thing is called Kate, but I can't tell him what I did with her.
"Other things?"
"Aye, and it's none of your business, Hugh. I'm not married to you, which means I donnae need to explain myself."
He frowns and stalks back into the open kitchen. "At least you deigned to return in time for lunch. It will be ready in ten minutes."
"I said I'm sorry, Hugh. Christ, you're turning into a nagging wife." I head for the hallway. "I'm changing clothes, if that's all right with you."
"Yes, do that. Your shirt is on backwards."
No, it can't be. But I look down and realize Hugh is right.Bloody hell. Despite my clothing issue, I don't think Hugh has guessed what I did this morning. Why would he? He believes his best mate would never lie to him, but that's exactly what I have to do. Since I will never kiss or shag Kate again, there's no point in upsetting Hugh by telling him what happened.
In my bedroom, I change clothes and then sit down on the bed. What have I done? Kate will probably pass me off to some other therapist, and Hugh will murder me when he finds out I had a poke with her. I know he will figure out the truth sooner or later. Hugh is too clever, and he knows me too well.
When I walk back into the living room, Hugh is setting plates and silverware on the kitchen table.
He smiles when he sees me. "Sit down, mate. I've whipped up a gourmet meal for you."
I shuffle over to the table. "Bangers and mash? That's your gourmet meal?"
"Of course." He lifts the lid on a bowl, revealing what's inside. "But I did lower my standards to make this dish. Anything for my best mate."
