That shower was torture. The minute she walked out of the bathroom, I slammed the water to freezing to take care of the raging hard-on I had. I don’t know what I was thinking when I offered to touch her naked body like that. It took all of my restraint not to take it further, but I know she has to start seeing me as more. For me to have a real chance with her, I have to show her the man I really am.
Walking back out into the living room, I find Claire sitting on the couch with her knees tucked underneath her. Her gaze quickly shifts to me and then diverts to somewhere else in the room.
“You good?”
Sitting up slightly, she runs her hands down her face. “I think we need to talk and put some guidelines in place,” she says.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the town thinks we’re married, and that shower was confu—that shower was interesting. And I’ll be honest, I don’t really know how to act around you here. On the one hand, I like flirting with you and kissing you and touching you, but then on the other, I know we need to focus on getting home. I don’t know what we’re doing.”
Her brow knits together as she talks, and I smile at how cute she is when she’s a little flustered.
“If we were in New York, what would you want to do?”
“That’s not a fair question because this isn’t New York and we’re both wearing rings on our left hands.”
I stare at her, contemplating what I want to say. If she’s saying she thinks we should give us a real chance, then I’m in. Sign me up. But, if she’s setting me up to tell me she thinks we can’t have more moments like we just did, I don’t want any part of that plan at all.
“Four years ago, what happened after I walked away?” I ask, sitting next to her.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Her head tilts to the side, and a memory seems to play behind her eyes.
“I think it has everything to do with what you’re asking me.”
“I don’t know. I focused on dance and my family.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Fine, I’ll go first. I considered turning around and asking you out on a real date, but I knew that’s not what you wanted, and I was leaving, so I didn’t. I’ve regretted that decision every day since.”
“Oh.” Her mouth falls open. “Why?”
“Because nothing has ever been like it was when we were together.”
“We hated each other back then,” she argues.
I shake my head and chuckle. “No, you hated me. I…well…I definitely didn’t hate you.”
Her mouth parts, and her eyes get a little glossy.
“I didn’t hate you,” she says quietly. “You were, and some might argue still are, mildly infuriating and way too cocky for your own good, but I didn’t hate you back then.”
She hesitates for a second, and my heart expands behind my ribcage.
“So, what happened after I walked away?” I push.
She shakes her head.
“Claire, you can tell me. I can handle it.”
“I cried,” she admits, her eyes finding mine.
“You cried?”
“Yes, I closed the door behind you, and then I cried for the rest of the night while I ate a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream and watched10 Things I Hate About You.”
