SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance) (27 page)

When he returned a week later, he found Claire in her room going over colored fabrics and matching textures and tones on a wooden surface.

“Hey,” he said as he leaned against the door jam. “What are you doing?”

“Hey Chance,” she said and returned her attention to her work. “You’re back.”

He walked inside and looked over her shoulder at the fabrics she was arranging. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“Thanks,” Claire said without looking at him.

Chance pulled the chair up next to the bed and twiddled his thumbs. He sighed and looked everywhere but at Claire. “I don’t know…” he began, but nothing followed.

“What?” she asked.

“Claire, I’m sorry, but this…Gosh!” he said. He got up and kicked the chair away from him. He raked his hand through his hair and stood silently, his back to her. “This isn’t going to work.”

“What isn’t going to work?” she asked.

“Us!” he said. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for this…for us! Everything has been different since we got back and my life is…I always have to think about what you want or how it will affect you. I can’t live the life I’m used to, and I can’t be with you how I want to be, either.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Claire asked gently. “You won’t be the first.”

“Gosh no, Claire. It’s not like that. I just don’t know what else to do,” he said. “I mean, look at us. You said it once, remember? If they don’t split, then we are doomed. We can’t continue like this.”

“We knew what we were getting into from the very beginning. You persisted even after they got married. I wanted to stop this in St. Lucia. And now that we are all the way in, you want to back out?”

“You know it’s not like that, Claire.” He tried to touch her. She shrugged him off. “I’m just confused.”

“You are a little more than that. You are spoiled and selfish.”

“Come on, Claire, give me a break. I was stupid enough to think this would work. You and I both knew how crazy this was going to be.”

“So you’re choosing to end this relationship instead of fighting for it?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he pleaded.

“But that’s what you’re doing. Did you come here to talk to me about it, or just let me know what you’ve already planned to do?”

“I don’t want to fight,” he said at last. “I came to say maybe it would be better if we are just siblings.”

Claire narrowed her eyes at him, then went back to moving around the fabric on the bed. “I have work to do.”

Chance opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He sighed and left. When he did, Claire got up and closed the door behind him. She slid to the floor, her back against the door, and cried. Life was certainly unfair to her. When she was spent, she lay on her bed and fell asleep. It was a long night, and the morning didn’t bring any better luck. She did her best to avoid leaving the room so she didn’t have to see Chance, but as she ventured into the kitchen, he was leaving. She froze when she saw him, and her heart sped up in the same moment. He nodded and walked past her like she had never meant anything to him.

Claire’s hands trembled when she removed the cup from the coffee machine. Everything was against her; even the coffee tasted bland in her mouth. She had no sense of anything. She felt numb, even though she had rationalized that she needed to put one foot in front of the other, one day at a time, and soon he would be a distant memory.

“Oh Claire, there you are,” Willow said as she breezed into the kitchen. “I need to go to the other side of town with Bryan. Do you think you can catch a ride with Chance?”

Claire sputtered on the coffee. “Can’t I borrow one of his cars instead?”

“You know you don’t know your way around yet,” Willow reminded her. “Let Chance take you.”

“I’m sure Chance has other things to do,” Claire said. “He can’t be bothered babysitting me. Besides, all I need is a GPS and I’ll be fine.”

“I bet, but I just asked Chance and he said it was fine,” Willow persisted.

“Well, maybe you should have asked me if I’d like to go with him.” Claire placed the cup in the sink with most of the coffee in it and walked out of the kitchen.

“Hey, is everything all right?” her mother asked.

“Just peachy,” Claire said, flashing her mom a fake grin.

 

***

 

Claire saw Chance on her way out, and she could tell he had heard the conversation between her and her mother. She glanced up at him as he stood there, gripping the golden handles of the staircase railings and staring right through her.

“Good news; there is a BMW in the garage that no one uses. He says you can use that as much as you want. It does have a GPS so I suppose you’ll be okay,” Willow announced

“I will be fine,” Claire said as she took the keys from her mother and walked out.

When she got into the car, she couldn’t stop the tears from coming. She gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white, and poured out all her sorrow on the cushioned covering.

When she sat up, Chance was watching her. She quickly brushed her tears away, straightened herself, and turned the key in the ignition. He was still standing there when she drove out, but she was sure when she got back he would be gone.

 

 

***

Claire buried herself in her work. She rarely saw Chance, and when she did, he kept his distance except when they were forced into odd situations like Bryan’s birthday party. It would be an epic event with half the world invited; what was supposed to be a semi-private event had turned into something closer to a grand coronation. The dining room and the hall had been transformed into gigantic rooms filled with chocolate fountains, crystal statues, ice sculptures, and an array of food.

Claire put on a red silk dress after spending hours trying to figure out what she wanted to wear. When she reached the landing above the ground floor, she almost wanted to turn around at the sheer number of people invited. Guests poured through the doors after dark, and Claire couldn’t avoid them even if she wanted to. Besides, Bryan had been so generous to her thus far, and she wanted to celebrate with him.

She scanned the room and came across Chance, who had just walked in with a woman on his arm. Claire noticed that even though the woman hung onto Chance, he was trying to find a way to get her off him. He was rather unsuccessful as the girl latched onto him. Claire watched them for some time before deciding there was no need punishing herself by watching Chance and his numerous women. She decided to mingle with some of the guests and introduce herself. She entertained conversations with strangers, but it was soon clear to her this was not her scene. She grew bored quickly and was relieved when Bryan rescued her from another band of middle aged women who batted their eyes at him.

“Happy birthday, Bryan,” Claire smiled as she greeted him with a kiss.

“Thank you, Claire.” He embraced her briefly. “I’m happy your mom and you are here.”

“So is your party always this big?”

“Oh no. Last year it was smaller because it was on my yacht, and the year before that…hell, I don’t even remember,” he laughed.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, but what can you give the man who has everything?” she asked.

“That was my dilemma,” Willow said as she came upon them. “I almost got him a sweater.”

Claire laughed at her mother’s words, and the three chatted for a while before Bryan had to excuse himself and Willow’s book club partners turned up. Claire was left with nothing to do and no one to talk to, so she grabbed another champagne from a passing attendant and went out on the back patio. She leaned against the wall and watched the clear sky above, and as her mind started relaxing thanks to the twinkling balls of stars, she heard someone come up behind her. Claire turned and saw the woman who had come in with Chance.

“Claire, right?” she asked with a smile. Her smile was anything but pleasant; her lips curled as if to mock Claire. Her eyes searched her, assessing whether or not she belonged. She was an attractive woman, but not overly so, and as for first impressions, she looked great.

“Who’s asking?” Claire asked aggressively, her glass before her.

“Penelope,” the woman smirked and held out her hand. Claire didn’t budge. “Okay, then.” She rested against the wall next to Claire.

“How can I help you, Penelope?”

“I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“Looking at whom?” Claire asked innocently.

“Chance. I saw the way you were looking at him, and I could feel how uneasy it made him with you watching. I’m not sure if you are aware, but he’s your brother.”

“Hmm, and you came all the way over here to tell me something I already know?” Claire asked.

“I just thought I’d remind you of the inappropriate way you were looking at him. Chance isn’t that kind of person, and you aren’t even his type,” she told Claire flatly.

“And you are?” Claire asked, eyebrow arched sarcastically.

“Damn right,” she said. “You do know you look so out of place here.”

“Well, I better go somewhere else then, before I rub off on your rudeness,” Claire said and emptied the remaining champagne in her glass.

Penelope grabbed her shoulder as she passed. “Hey, I’m not done talking to you.”

Claire shrugged her off and brought her elbow back, catching Penelope’s shoulder. Penelope mumbled bitch under her breath and shoved her. Claire was about to lunge at her when Chance rushed over and stood between them.

“Hey, hey, hey, break it up,” he said, parting them. “What’s going on?”

“Why don’t you ask your dumb bimbo?” Claire fumed, slapping his hand away from her.

“Penelope, what’s this about?” he asked.

“Just making a point,” she said as she smoothed her hair.

“Why are you two back here alone?”

“I came here to enjoy the evening. She decided she would come out here to remind me of how wrong it is to want to be with you,” Claire snarled at the woman.

“She what?” Chance asked. He was growing more infuriated by the minute. “Penelope, it’s not your place to talk to my sister like that. You owe her an apology.”

“I’m not blind, Chance. I saw the way she looked at you when we came in,” she spat. “What would I be apologizing for?”

“Are you hearing yourself?” he asked the woman. “She is my family.”

“And I am your whore?” she asked and shoved past him. “You two are messed up.”

Chance stared at the ground after Penelope had left. “I’m sorry about that. She can be unusually feisty. Please forgive me?” He looked at her. “She’s nothing.”

“That didn’t seem to stop you from parading her in here earlier today. I saw you walk in; she was draped over your arm. Tell me something, Chance - do you make a habit of misleading women?”

“Penelope does what she wants, and don’t read too much into that. She has a big temper and a small mind…not my kind of girl, really. Can we not talk about other people?”

Claire pretended she didn’t hear his last words. There was no way she was going to let him get away without confronting him about Penelope. “So, are you with her now?”

“Penelope? Hell no!”

Claire wasn’t sure why she asked because she wasn’t sure she was prepared for the answer, but just because they had agreed to stay away didn’t mean she still didn’t care about him. At least her body did - every night he permeated her thoughts and lived in her dreams, and her body ached for his touch. She knew he felt it too; she saw the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“But she was hanging on your arm.”

“She thinks she owns me. And yes, she always finds a way to be close to me, even after I send her away.”

“No, you don’t need to explain it to me, Chance. I get it. We can’t be together as lovers, and the sooner I understand this, the better for all of us. You should date Penelope or any other girl you want to, and I should move on with my life.”

“Claire, don’t say that. I do miss being with you. I’m trying to figure it all out,” he said, attempting to stroke her face.

She dodged him and cleared her throat. “No, Chance. Let’s just make it a clean break. I don’t want to stifle you.”

“Claire, you’re not doing anything to me.”

“It’s for the best,” Claire said as left him standing alone.

Memories of St. Lucia and better days flashed through her mind, and she fought the tears that threatened. She maintained her composure long enough to make it past the lingering guest and make it inside the house. She climbed the stairs that wound to the first landing and ran into Penelope again as she left the guest bathroom.

The two women shot daggers at each other with their eyes, but no words were said as Claire brushed past the woman and hurried down the hallway to her room. She curled up on the bed and covered her face with the pillow, which served to muffle her screams as she released her frustration. She lay there motionless for a considerable time, staring at the ceiling, her mind blank. Maybe Penelope was right; she didn’t belong here, and she had overstayed her welcome. It was time she moved back to Miami.

 

 

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