But I had one more question. “So, if this is our last session rather than our last time, doesn’t that mean that another two times is an option, since it’d all be part of the same session?”
“You’ve got another two in you?”
“If it’s my last chance, then I’ll bloody well make it happen.”
We kissed again, melting into each other in the steamed up back of the car.
“I’m really proud of us,” Keira murmured between kisses. “It’s not easy to have this much self-control.”
I grinned. “Yeah. I don’t know how we do it...”
Chapter 12
Andrew
“Well, that time was nobody’s fault.”
It was a Tuesday, and I’d bumped into Keira during her lunch break, which she’d taken in the rose garden.
“There was no way I could have known you’d be there,” I said, nodding in agreement.
“Didn’t I mention it earlier?”
“No, I don’t think so. This was all a complete coincidence.”
“And then you pointed out how secluded the arbor was, and really, from then on it was inevitable. Nobody’s fault.”
“Absolutely.”
“And a nice way to round things off between us.”
“Agreed.”
“But never again.”
“I think we’re both agreed on that.”
And we were. But that afternoon, I happened to glance out the window and saw the light rain that had started after lunch becoming heavier and setting in for the day. Although we had supposedly put aside any thoughts of physical or romantic relations, I still cared about Keira’s wellbeing, and the thought of her having to walk to the bus stop in the rain upset me. The thought of her standing there, hair wet, clothes drenched to transparency, clinging to her curvaceous body like a second skin as she trembled with…
I leapt up and headed for the garage.
It was no easy task giving Keira a lift home without anyone else noticing—let alone slipping away from the royal guard who usually followed me around when I left the palace—but I damn well managed it, because I was Andrew bloody Arlington, and when it came to Keira’s wellbeing, I wasn’t going to let them or anyone else stand in my way.
We finally arrived at the apartment she was staying in, and I put the hood up on my jacket as I walked her to her door, so I wouldn’t be recognized by some nosy neighbor.
“Did you want to come in for coffee?” she asked hesitantly.
“Better not,” I said. It was best to not give temptation even the slightest opportunity to take hold.
“Tea?”
“Okay.”
That was different. I was British, and if there was one thing that every British person grows up knowing, it’s that there was absolutely nothing sexual about tea.
Inside, we chatted pleasantly and one cup of tea turned into two, the time slipping away in good company without either of us realizing it until all excuses for me to remain longer had been exhausted.
“I suppose I should…” I vaguely indicated the door.
“I suppose,” Keira said with a nod. She was silent a moment then spoke again. “You know what’s kinda funny?”
“Let me guess…my face?”
“That too, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of. I was thinking that since I met you I’ve been worried about you trying to get me into bed, and in fact, a bed is pretty much the one place we never did it.”
“That is funny,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. Another pause. “Kind of a gap, don’t you think?”
I sat up straight. “I know what you mean. It makes the whole thing seem somehow incomplete.”
“Exactly!” Keira leapt on this interpretation. “Maybe the reason that we’re having trouble ending it, besides bad luck…”
“Obviously.”
“…is that it still feels incomplete,” she finished.
“Because we never did it in a bed.”
“Yes!”
“Well, shit, you’re absolutely right. It seems so obvious when you explain it like that.”
Though neither of us had been aware of it happening, we’d both stood up during this exchange, and now I was sweeping Keira off her feet and into my arms.
“Bedroom is…?”
Keira pointed.
“Right. But this is the last time.”
“Yes,” Keira said before adding, “last ‘time’ or last session?”
I considered the question; it had been a long day already. “Let’s see how it goes.”
I headed for the bedroom, Keira giggling in my arms.
***
Over the next few days, the ‘last times’ continued with a regularity that taxed both our energy and our imaginations in coming up with justifications for each ‘last time’. And yet we persevered. We both knew that it was a bad idea, but somehow stopping would’ve been an even worse idea. Letting go of something so good was fucking hard; way harder than it sounded on paper. Still, that specter of something bad continued to loom, and three tiring weeks after our initial agreement to end things, it finally descended.