Authors: Sarah Darlington
I did it all in anticipation of this moment. The moment she’d start to notice me. I wanted her to like the man sitting in front of her when she finally opened her eyes to what had always been in front of her. I wanted to be worthy. I’d come a long way since that night two and half years ago. And I still had a long way to go.
“I have no clue what you're talking about,” Clara said, playing ignorant. But now I
knew
she remembered. “I went to lots of parties in The Village freshman year—they’re all a blur.”
A smile came to my lips. This was a fun game we were playing. “Don't lie, I know you remember. But this does make for an odd coincidence. I've now had two near-death experiences because of you. Last night—when you nearly turned me into road kill. And falling off that balcony. Do I need to watch my back around you, killer, or am I just that accident prone?”
The most adorable, shocked smile came to Clara’s lips. “You're probably just an alcoholic.”
“Or maybe I'm going to have to look into hiring a bodyguard.” All of a sudden, I remembered her friend still stood waiting on us. As much as I liked playing around with Clara, we were being rude not including her in our conversation. “Anyway, nice to
officially
meet you, Stephany,” I told her.
Stephany smiled politely. “You too. I've got to go deliver these drinks. Want me to bring you guys back anything?”
Clara and I both ordered a beer and then Stephany left us. I took this moment, where we were getting along and actually talking, to tell Clara a few things I’d been waiting a long time to say.
“I haven't had a cigarette since that night,” I explained. “I have a little scar from where I burned myself in the process of falling on my face.” I turned my right hand over, exposing the underside of my wrist. There was a small white scar on my skin, barely noticeable but there. It was a scar I cherished. I traced the spot with my thumb. Clara, surprising the hell out of me, reached across the table and gently swept her fingers over the same area. She must have done this unconsciously because a second later she pulled away. My eyes jumped to meet hers. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her breathing a little heavier than it ought to have been.
“Every time I get the urge to smoke—which is all the time—I look down at that scar and think of that night,” I told her. “And of you. I wish all my vices could be helped so easily.”
“And until the bruise on your leg heals, maybe you can look down at it and be reminded that you shouldn't walk through a golf course at night while you’re drunk. You never know when a crazy girl on a golf cart might hit you.”
“I'm kind of glad some crazy girl hit me. I wouldn't be with her now if she hadn't.”
Stephany returned right then to drop off our drinks. Shocked I’d been bold enough to say that, I picked up my beer and took a sip. Across from me, Clara did the same. Stephany lingered for a small second and then disappeared.
My eyes were still on the girl across the table. Her cheeks grew redder yet. She swallowed down several gulps of her beer, before finally setting it down on the table. It looked as if she was about ready to leap across the table and throttle me. Or perhaps…something…
nicer
. Her eyes screamed with a mixture of confusion, panic, and possibly lust. She was realizing there was something between us. She just
had
to be. And it was about damn time, too.
“What is it?” I whispered, my heart now slamming inside my chest. “Clara? Are you okay?”
“Why did you come here tonight?” she suddenly demanded. “We're not friends. You hate me.”
I set down my beer, staring at the little bubbles that floated peacefully to the liquid's surface, and thought for a moment about how to answer. I needed to say the right thing.
“If I hated you, I wouldn't be here now,” I told her.
“So why are you?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
She rested her elbows on the table and leaned closer, her eyebrows raising. “You used that line on me last night. It won't work for you a second time. Tell me, Leo, right now. Why are you here?”
Again, it hurt that she thought so little of me. I was here because I loved her. It felt so obvious to me. “Why do you think I'm here?” I demanded, my voice coming out harsher than I wanted it to. “Why do you think I invited you to New York? Why do you think I almost got into a fight with Andrew ‘Fuckhead’ Wellington last night? Why do you think I still spend every summer in Blue Creek? Maggie isn't the only thing keeping me there. Why do you think I was walking in the direction of your house last night?” I ran my fingers roughly through my hair, not even trying to control my emotions anymore. “No. You know what? I won't answer your question, but I will ask you one of my own. Why did it take you
seeing me naked
this morning
for you to finally start noticing me?”
Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me. Minutes passed and still she said nothing. I’d shocked her into silence. Now she knew
everything
. I’d just inadvertently told her
everything
. My feelings were on the table and I needed her to say something. Anything.
Suddenly she found her voice. “I saw you naked this morning and so-freaking-what if I happened to like what I saw, okay?” she snapped. “Are you trying to say you
like
me?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“No...No! NO! You can't. Not now. Not after all these years of being so mean to me. It's not fair. If that's how you feel, then why are you such a jackass?”
I took a very deep breath. Suddenly, a whole lot of shit made sense to me. Clara had a million and one walls built up and maybe, just maybe, she’d built them all against me. “You're right. I've been mean to you for far too fucking long. It ends tonight.” Then very slowly, very carefully, so she wouldn’t see how badly my hands were trembling, I slid my beer and hers to the other side of the table. I didn’t want anything to spill for what was about to come next.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice uneven.
I stood, not responding to her question, and started moving around the table. Clara caught onto what I had in mind because the next words out of her mouth were, “Don't you dare.”
Still I moved toward her.
“Leo,” she whispered in one final half-attempt to stop me. But the thing was…I could see it in the way her eyes were devouring me whole, in the way her cute little mouth dropped open, and in the quick fall and rise of her chest…there was no chance in hell she truly wanted me to stop. That gave me all the confidence I needed. I wasn’t going to stop.
I took her small hand in mine and gently pulled. She stood to her feet and put up no fight as I caught her in my arms. That icy stone wall around her—it thawed and crumbled in an instant. Her eyes were big and wide, terrified and excited. Reaching up, I tangled my hands into her pretty purple hair and drew her closer.
I’d been waiting my whole life for this moment.
“I like you,” I whispered close to her ear. “I more than like you. As hard as I try, I can't seem to stop and I sure as hell don't want to try anymore.”
“You do?” she asked softly, tenderly moving her head in reaction to the touch of my fingers.
“Yes, I do.”
My hand trailed from her hair to her face. I traced the curve of her jaw and then her lip with my thumb, memorizing. God, she was beyond gorgeous and her skin was even softer than it looked. I couldn’t believe she was letting me touch her, letting me hold her, letting me be near her. I didn’t deserve this moment. I’d never be worthy of this girl, but fuck if I didn’t want her just the same.
“Clara,” I whispered and brought my mouth down against her soft pink lips.
I’d fantasized about kissing her about a million times throughout my life. About where it would happen. About the way Clara might taste and feel. About her reaction. About my reaction. About the things I would say and do. But all of my fantasies instantly paled in comparison to the real thing.
I was done. I was sold. I was hers.
She smelled so sweet. After taking a moment to explore her lips, I slipped my tongue inside her mouth and found that she tasted even sweeter. Clara let out a small moan and pressed closer against me. She stood on her tiptoes, reached up, and wrapped her hands around my neck.
Fuck me
. As we kissed, her fingers dug into my shirt and trailed over my shoulders. She was exploring. She was touching. She was enjoying this. Meanwhile, I was so hard it was ridiculous and way too wildly inappropriate for such a public place. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. Clara certainly didn’t seem to care.
“You're amazing,” I gasped against her mouth. “You have no idea how bad I want you.”
Clara wobbled a little.
“I've got you,” I whispered. My hands moved to the small of her waist and I lifted her up onto the table's edge. I was feeling bold with her now. Kissing her had shattered all the stone-barriers that had always held us apart. No longer self-conscious, no longer calculating my every move, no longer fearful every word out of my mouth would piss her off—I finally was able to let go. I nudged her thighs apart and moved in closer. Clara let me. She even locked her legs around my waist.
But suddenly I ripped my lips from Clara’s and took one giant step backward. My movement surprised her because she gasped. I’d surprised myself as well. But I needed out of her grasp. I needed away. This was too much, too fast. And if I didn’t stop myself right this second, then I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to stop. I had to stop. For my own mental wellbeing, I just had to.
My chest rose and fell as I stared across the space between us. I guess, at least for a moment, even after our kiss ended, it still felt like I was right there with her across the room.
“Ahem,” came a voice. It was Stephany. “Thanks for the show, guys. I'm officially depressed, jealous, and missing my ex-boyfriend now.”
Clara broke eye contact and looked to her friend.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I could see it. The fear growing on Clara’s face. This thing that just happened between us—it was the best damn thing that had ever happened to me. But Clara only looked horrified now. Stephany, seeing exactly what I was seeing, rushed up to Clara. She took her friend’s hand in her hand. “We'll be right back, Leo,” she yelled over her shoulder as she dragged Clara away from me—across the bar and into the ladies’ bathroom at the other end.
I melted inside.
I sat back down in my chair, scared to death Clara would come out of the bathroom hating me even more than she did when this day began. But you know what, I decided—what the fuck ever. After years of wishing and hoping, tonight was the first time I’d actually done something. Anything was better than nothing. And if Clara hated me for the rest of her life for kissing her and bringing out something in her she wasn’t prepared for, then at least I would always have that one kiss. That one moment with her. And there would be no more lies. I wouldn’t have to cover up my feelings with meanness ever again.
Several minutes passed.
Dammit, what was she doing in that bathroom?
Talking about me, I imagined.
Finally she returned. She seemed recharged somehow. Calm. Collected. Unaffected. She approached the table I hadn’t moved an inch away from. I stood immediately. Instantly, I was a worried, nervous mess. I just couldn’t cover up my emotions with her anymore. Not after what just happened.
Clara, the badass that she was, took her beer in her hand. Casually, as if I wasn’t even there, she took a long sip.
“Are you okay?” I asked carefully.
Clara pulled the beer away from her lips. Then very unladylike, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and let out a big gasp of air.
“Clara?” I demanded. “What's going on? Say something, please. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” she asked, sarcastically, looking at me finally.
Shit, she was mad.
“What's that annoying code word you and Maggie used to say all the time? The two of you probably thought I was too dumb to crack that little language you created to use against me. Oh yeah, I remember now. Peaches. I'm just totally peaches.”
Standing tall, she reached her arm and her beer high above my head. Slowly, she poured the remaining contents of her drink down over my head. I gasped, frozen, shocked, but mostly hurt. “Real mature, Clara,” I groaned. By the time she was finished with her little temper tantrum, my hair, clothes, and face were all coated in liquid.
“That's for making me care,” she told me, setting her empty glass back down on the table. And if my beer shower wasn’t bad enough, she drew her hand back and slapped me across the face. Shit, it stung. She was much stronger than her small size suggested. I could have caught her hand and stopped her. But frankly, what was the fucking point anymore? “That's for being a jerk to me since we were kids,” she muttered. Surprisingly, her voice wasn’t as harsh as her hand had felt across my face. “And this...” She stood taller, grabbed hold of my face, and planted one firm kiss on my wet lips. “That's so you know I'm not fucking around.” She continued to hold me tight, pressing a little closer into me. I was so damn confused, I couldn’t move a muscle. “Prove it to me,” she whispered, her voice shaky and raw and vulnerable as hell. “Prove to me you aren't an ass and I'm all yours.”