I needed to get out of there before it moved into something else. Something dangerous. As I lay there in the dark, Claire’s soft breathing tickling my ear, I refused to think about Sara and high school and my mom. I wouldn’t go there. I couldn’t.
As gently as I could, I shifted her away from me and onto the pillows. She didn’t even stir. I smiled to myself. It was no surprise she was a deep sleeper. When she was awake, she was so alive and buzzing with energy, it made sense that when she slept, it would be absolute.
Even so, I was careful to make as little noise as possible as I fumbled in my discarded pants for my phone while using the flashlight to locate the rest of my clothes. I did my best to not glance at Claire’s lacy black bra on the floor, but I wasn’t that strong.
My stomach lurched as I realized that I wanted to see her in that bra again. I wanted to take it off her. Again and again. That was why she was dangerous. That kind of deeper intimacy and emotion could only lead to pain.
I exited her room, finished getting dressed and headed for the door.
I didn’t look back.
The sun was peeking over the horizon when I finally made it back to my place. I had thought I might get a little more sleep, but I couldn’t settle down. I took a shower, changed my clothes, flipped through some accounting tasks.
Nothing held my attention.
Every time I blinked, images of Claire were seared on the inside of my eyelids. Claire perfect pink lips twisting into a smile as I held her. The curve of her pale shoulder. Her flushed face as she came down from the heights of her climax.
Even worse, I kept having nonsexual images too. Claire narrowing her eyes as she pulled out her camera to snapshots of Trey. Claire nodding in appreciation as Kim went in for the kill. Claire’s joyous and totally unselfconscious dancing.
A life with Claire would be fun. It would never be dull.
With Claire, it would be something indeed.
But no. I couldn’t think like that. That was just like my mother had been. She would have one good date with a halfway handsome guy, and all of a sudden, her head would be filled with daydreams. She would build him into this amazing person and picture this ideal life filled with perfect happiness for years to come.
But even when the guy would prove that he was no good, when it was clear that the years of happiness were going to be years of misery instead, my mother would still cling to her fantasies.
Not me. I didn’t make fantasies. I had not glorified anyone since Sara Garcia. She hadn’t been worthy of any pedestal, and neither was Claire.
Something within me flinched at putting Claire in the same sentence as Sara.
I groaned and collapsed on my couch. I flipped through the TV channels without aim for awhile, but nothing held my interest. I kept glancing at my phone where it sat on the table next to my couch. When would Claire wake up? Nine? Ten? Or did she sleep past noon after a night out?
When she woke up, would she wonder where I was? She had my number since we had texted to plan out the fake date. Would she text me? Or would she shrug (it was just a casual hook-up after all) and slip into the shower. I felt a tightening of desire when I pictured her in the shower. I had to squash that urge.
Once the morning had faded into afternoon, I knew I had to get out of my apartment. I didn’t want to text any of my brothers in case they sensed my mental unrest and decided to get all nosy. I just wanted a bit of a distraction. Something to get my mind off Claire.
So I pulled out my drive and pointed my bike towards the auto shop. There had to be someone hanging out. And willing to talk about something other than women.
It occurred to me as I approached the back of the shop that Kim might be around. I knew she was no idiot. Everything had been a little blurry thanks to the alcohol, but I could have sworn Kim gave me a knowing look as she hopped into her car.
There were already too many people in my life that liked to play matchmaker, so I would not put it past Kim. For all I knew, Kim might have been orchestrating the whole night so that Claire and I ended up together at the end. I wondered if Claire had been in on it. Had she told Kim she wanted to be alone with me? Had Kim helped her achieve that goal?
Even more relevant, had Claire communicated with Kim after the fact? Girls did that. They got in touch as soon as the date or hook-up was over to dissect every little thing.
My mood darkened. Had the sex been good for Claire? Would she give Kim a favorable report? She must be texting someone because she certainly wasn’t texting me.
I cursed under my breath and reminded myself that I didn’t want her to text me or reach out at all. That was why I had left so early.
I cast furtive eyes around the shop as soon as I entered. No sign of Kim. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Pin, what up man?”
I turned and smiled at Moves as he strode out of the office. We clasped hands in greeting.
“Nothing much,” I said.
I followed Moves into the backroom where we both lolled on the ragged armchairs that had been dragged back there. He gestured to a small fridge. “You want a beer?”
