Mac stops by to drop off the things Kirsten forgot to take when she left him. In a moment of weakness, they tumble into bed.
Half an hour later, as I stared at the ceiling in a small bedroom, I had my doubts. “That seemed very…final,” I said after several minutes of silence.
She rested her hand lightly on my chest and said softly, “It was.”
She might as well have been doing a handstand on my pectorals – my heart was crushed beneath her words. I swallowed back the hurt and said angrily, “So this was what? Pity sex?”
“No, of course not,” she said soothingly. “This was goodbye sex.”
“Is that how you’re going to explain fucking your ex in his bed?”
She giggled. “Don’t be silly. This is the guest room.”
I rolled away and located my underwear on the floor beside the bed. “Great,” I muttered.
“Besides,” she continued, “Kent thought this” – she waggled her index finger back and forth between us – “might help me get past some of the guilt I’ve been feeling.”
“So this” – I mockingly used her same hand gesture – “is Sir Kent-sanctioned?”
“You know I hate it when you call him that.”
“Yes. This is okay with him.”
“A one-time-only, use-it-or-lose-it fuck session.”
She contorted her face in disgust. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that. You make it seem so…sordid.”
“God help me. How did I ever end up with a twisted bitch like you?”
“Okay. I am so totally over the guilt thing now. Get out.”
“Gladly. Be sure to let Sir Kent know I think you two deserve each other.”
A door rattled and slammed from somewhere in the house. “Kirsten? Where are you, baby?”
“Never mind,” I said, pulling my t-shirt on. “I’ll tell him myself.”
“Shit,” she muttered, hurriedly shoving herself into her clothes.
Slipping on my jeans, I watched her with disbelief. “I thought he knew,” I said.
“He does. But that’s no reason to rub his face in it.”
“We’re back here!” I called.
“You finally made it in, huh, Mac?” he said in a loud but genial tone.
“Yeah,” I said. “One last time.”
Kirsten glared as she threw the bedspread over the tangled sheets.
He finally came into view at the far end of the hall. “There you are!” He strode forward purposefully, not even stopping to evaluate the tableau. He stuck his hand out and I reached for it without even thinking about what might be on mine. I realized as soon as our flesh met that my hand was sticky. Sir Kent either didn’t notice or didn’t let me see him flinch. He smiled at me and then turned to Kirsten. “Is everything resolved then?”
“Yes,” she said. “I think so.”
“Good,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder with his free hand. “I’m glad you two were able to work things out.”
Work things out. If we had worked things out, Kirsten would be packing right now and this oddly geeky PhysEd teacher would be curled up in a corner crying. “Yeah. I need to go now.” I pulled my hand away from Sir Kent’s paw and spread my fingers. “Bathroom?”
“First door on the right,” Kirsten said.
When I left Sir Kent’s Pepto-Bismol-pink guest bathroom after thoroughly cleaning my hands with the pink sweet-pea-scented anti-bacterial liquid soap, I heard him asking her in a disturbingly aroused voice if she’d been a naughty girl, while she giggled nervously. I had to lock my knees to keep from actually running to the door.
When I was safely back in my truck, I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. Then I dialed Adam. “What’s Stage Three?”