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“You want a repeat of last night?” he growls, making heat lick down my spine.Umm, yes, yes I do.
“I said for you to keep it until you have a coat.”
He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out his wallet, opens it and thrusts a fifty at me.
“Is that enough?”
I stare at him in horror, before gettingpissed. “Fifty quid? Are you shitting me right now?! That’s damn right insulting!”
His angry face cracks and the corners of his mouth begin to twitch. I glower at him, becoming more irate as he laughs at me. Is this some sort of joke?
“Why do you think I’m giving you money, Candy?” he asks carefully, but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.
“For last night, you arsehole!” I hiss, aghast.
As soon as the words leave my mouth, he lets out a deep rumbling laugh that I feel all the way to my core.
“It’s for a coat, love,” he clarifies and my body erupts with my mortification. I honestly don’t know what’s worse.
“Umm…”
“Don’t flatter yourself, darling. It was good, but it wasn’tthatgood.” I try not to wince at how painful that is to hear. I thought it was mind blowing. “And I don’t pay for sex. Ever.”
He fists the money and stuffs it into the pocket of his jeans and steps to one side to allow me to pass. I try, I really do try to stalk past him with my nose in the air, offended by his backhanded compliment. But his rumbling laughter follows me all the way to the changing room, and I know my skin is bright red.
Arsehole of the most chocolate starfished proportions!
DON
Oh shit fuck bollocks, I think I just fucked up. Again.
Not only have I managed to insult her by offering her money, she thinks it was for sex, so I basically just implied she’s a prostitute. Which definitely wasn’t my intention.
I curse under my breath as I watched her storm off, her footsteps echoing against the corridor flooring.
My heart sinks as I realise my mistake. How can I be so stupid? I was trying to make things right, to help her out when she’s clearly in need of a coat but can’t afford one for whatever reason, but instead, I’ve managed to make everything worse.
And, to add insult to injury, I laughed at her for getting the wrong end of the stick. More to cover my own embarrassment than anything else, but she wouldn’t know that.
None of that’s really a problem though, compared to how mad she’ll be when I confess just how badly I fucked up last night.
I know I need to tell her about the condom thing, but after that disaster, now isn’t the right time.
Maybe I can grab her on her break. If I can manage to find her.
Shit no, that’s a bad idea too. What if she makes a scene? Then we’ll both be in trouble with the boss.
After her shift then.
I’ll grab her on her way out, and I’ll definitely tell her and face the consequences. I can maybe offer her the cash for the morning after pill – more transparently this time – and perhaps show her my clean bill of health certificate so she doesn’t have to worry aboutthatside of things.
I’m already getting sweaty just thinking about the conversation, and my stomach is doing somersaults. I need a chance to sort my shit out. Time to think.
What else can I do to make this right?
My mind races with scenarios and potential solutions as I try to devise a plan to salvage the mess I’ve created.
As I ponder my next steps, a plan begins to take shape. The first thing I need to do is find her and apologise sincerely. I know it won’t erase the initial misstep, but it’s a necessary step towards rebuilding some trust. I need to explain that my offer was a genuine attempt to help, not an insult. I hope she’ll understand, though I can’t be sure.
