I thought of Brian pounding inside me on my untidy bed, and his shout more of relief than ecstasy as he had squirted his warm liquid into the condom I insisted he wore. "Sort of," I said. Then - a natural association of ideas - "Where are you staying tonight, Andrew?"
"I don't have much money, and it's too far to drive back to Wellington, so I thought I would check into a backpackers. You live here, Maxine, do you know of any good places?"
"You can stay at my place," I said.
"That's nice of you. Do you have a couch or a spare bed I can sleep on?"
"We'll arrange something." The couch was unpleasant and lumpy, but that didn't matter. Andrew was going to sleep in my bed with me. Maybe not for ***, unless I could get over my hangup. Andrew held me in high regard and I wanted it to stay that way. But it would be nice to have the comfort of snuggling up to a warm body who didn't see me simply as a bonk-bag.
Andrew wanted to sit near the doorway in the restaurant, but I chose one of the darker alcoves at the back. Opotane is a small town, and it might mean too many embarrassing explanations if any more of my ex-boyfriends came round. Workmates were also a problem. There were a not inconsiderable number of workmates who compensated for the tedium at work with a prurient interest in their colleagues' love life, and I didn't want to be facing too many probing questions in the smoko room.