Miranda woke up in a sweat, trying to erase all sorts of lascivious imagery from her brain. His tongue was where? Her hands were…whatever. They had sex on the desk at some point. The rest of it was a general blur but it was a good blur. This was so embarrassing. Maybe she needed a cold shower.
For fucks sake Max. Why the fuck had she watched that film? Now she was never going to unsee it. Miranda smacked herself on the side of her head but nothing happened. The image of his bum lived rent-free in her mind. She was going to have to get a grip on herself because she couldn't avoid him forever. And she knew that Max thought she was angry with him over his nasty snack foods. She was. They were revolting. But that was unfair. And he did deserve an explanation for her hostility, even if it was untrue. She was starting to see that he was pretending that it didn't affect him.
Lunchtime was a substandard soup and stale bread roll. Miranda desperately wanted a packet of salt and vinegar crisps. She sighed and played with bits of bread.
'Would you like a beirock?' Max offered, knowing he was playing with fire but was apparently too bored to care.
'Are you serious?' Snapped Miranda.
'Do you want to eat anything other than potato chips?' Asked Max.
'Yes' snapped Miranda.
Max didn't eat. Carried on looking at the contents of the folder. He didn't say anything for a while. He didn't smile. Miranda didn't like that.
He spent the rest of the day turned away from her. Didn't speak to her. Miranda wouldn't have minded normally. He had a tendency to talk crap some of the time. But she didn't know how to diffuse the situation. Other than telling the truth. And nothing was more mortifying.