He pushes her hair out of the way in a frustrated manner as he kisses her again. He really is a fast learner, but this one is less hurried, and gentler, warmer. She laughs as she remembers the frenzied movements they synchronised on her office floor. He props himself up on his side, smiling with satisfaction and his eyes twinkling with a little extra something. A little extra something that give hers butterflies. She remembers how he was careful never to squash her; she remembers his fingers trailing along her body, burning through her shirt, which she didn't have time to take off. She remembers as she gazes over his hair that matches hers to a shade, and his blue eyes that she nearly gets lost in. She remembers that this is Brad Chase.
Her grin fades to a look of horror as his does to a confused smile. She remains frozen for fear that any action will be confirmation that yes, this did just happen.
"Oh God!" She panics, hoping not too loudly. Although that damage could have already been done.
"What?" he says, propping himself up further so that he looks down on her and she wishes she didn't feel protected by this.
She looks up at him for a moment, unable to comprehend his innocent regard for what just happened. "We just had sex!" It's a whisper, because the goal here is to not make it any more real than it already is.
His face breaks out into a smile which he tries to hide with a look of seriousness. "As far as I'm aware, yes." He adds a nod, as if it helps.
She sits up with a start, before continuing to her feet. He struggles to follow and she's already pulling up her skirt when he finally stands. They stare at each other for a while. His tie is very loose and his hair is mussed and she can only imagine how she looks. For a second the look in his eye tells her it doesn't matter. He opens his mouth to say something but she beats him to it.
"You should go. You definitely need to go."
She walks away from him, which is harder than she thought it would be, and opens the door. She watches him stand there for a second, before he comes towards her. "We need to talk."
She nods. "We do. And we will/ But right now, you have to go."
He's about to say something but stops himself. Before she has a chance to be relieved, his hand covers hers and he closes the door.
"Denise..." he says, staring at her as if she held all the answers, or maybe as if she held all his answers. Either way, she didn't want to consider it. "We just..."
"I know what just happened, Brad." She says, not particularly keen to look him in the eye, "I was there."
Control breaks and suddenly he's kissing her again. Just the way she taught him, but better. And though it last way too long, she can't help but wish it lasted longer.
They both catch their breath for a moment. She places her hand on his chest, feeling his thumping heart and she is well aware that he is still cupping her cheek.
"We have work to do." She opens the door for him again, unable to look any higher than his tie. But she still feels his gaze on her face. And his warm, coffee-mint breath.
"We need to talk." He says this as a promise and lets his hand drop from her cheek to her arm, stroking it before walking out. She closes the door directly after him, not wanting the bustle of the hall to remind her how much time stood still when their lips touched. Or when their bodies did.
She curls up on her couch, burying her head in her hands and wishing she could disappear. It was just a kissing demonstration, she tells herself, which got out of hand. But she knows it wasn't, and that makes it so much worse.
And when she runs a mental checklist of everything she still had to do, she's not sure if she's surprised that there's only one name on her lips. Brad.
Alan walks in, "Denise, I need -" He stops when he eyes her on the couch, head in hands. She does her best to ignore him and he stares at her for what seems to be too long.
After forever, he cocks his head. "You've had sex." He points out. "And by your absolutely terrified demeanour I'm assuming you enjoyed it."
She turns to look at him, staring in shock, unable to form whole words, let alone sentences. She attempts to refute his claim, to prove it as ridiculous. But when she finally unfreezes, she surprises herself by nodding and scooting over on the couch.
Alan, in his usual fashion, unbuttons his jacket and sits down next to her. Look around to gather his words before speaking.
"Denise, I assure you, I am an expert in the field, many will happily testify to that. And I do not deny my dream of bedding every woman at the Boston enterprise of Crane, Poole and Schmidt. Please, do tell me who was the extraordinarily lucky fellow to beat me to you?" He looks at her and smiles, and deep down she feels a little better.
She takes a breath and starts to speak.
"Ah, Bradley finally got the girl, did he?" Alan chuckles as her eyes widen. He doesn't tell her how he knows, and she's not sure she cares. She's still lost, still tangled up in a net of possibilities. She wants it to be a mistake, a onetime thing, to satisfy her and teach him. But then again, she's not sure if she wants that at all. All she knows is the way he looked at her, probably left her more breathless, than their numerous kisses.
Alan places a hand on her knee and she doesn't brush it away, "Denise, I'm not one to promote love or happiness, frankly I don't think either make the world go round, but I do know that when you don't look for them, they always show up in the most unlikely forms. And usually they usually have the worst timing, but that's another matter."
She smiles at him, thankfully, mulling over the words he said and he stands up and buttons his jacket. "I can't tell you whether you've found either love or happiness, but you shouldn't rule it out."
She nods, and they stay in silence for a moment. After a while, she looks up at him, and remembers when he first came in. "You needed my help?" she stands up, ready to throw herself into work.
He looks at her for a second and smiles as if he knows something she doesn't. "Not really." He walks out, and is careful to close the door behind him.
She sighs, and moves towards her desk, where she notices the top file had Brad's names on it, next to hers. She sits in her chair, and covers his name up with a post it. She wished for the day to be over. Or for this day to never have existed. This was a mistake, a onetime thing and she would tell him as much. They worked together and they were friends. Most of all, she wished she believed it herself.