Katie closed her eyes, exasperation etched in every line of her face. It took her more than a moment to calm down. He could press every button she had and he seemed to relish doing it. Taking a deep, breath, she opened her eyes and looked back at him. They'd known each for ages. More than half her life. Yet, more than anything, she wanted to punch that smug, arrogant look right off his face. "My knickers are not in a twist," she said, through her teeth. "Look. It's over. It happened. We both regret it. And the beaters WERE playing like shite."
Rummaging through her locker, she pulled out a pair of jeans and a hoodie, more than intent on relocating to change. Normally, she wouldn't have even cared. She'd mastered changing in the locker room without flashing her bits about, but things were different. Everything had shifted between them and there would be no more falling asleep on his sofa, head on his lap. Or strolling in for morning coffee. Not after this.
The change in his voice caught her attention and she glanced over her shoulder. Every fiber of her being screamed to tell him the truth. Instead, she said, "Yeah. I did." It wasn't the most mature thing she'd done but Oliver had hurt her in ways he probably couldn't fathom. Being treated like a bloody groupie was not acceptable. Not from him. Not from anyone.