But when things were good they were fantastic. He was so much fun to be around. He made me laugh and let loose in a way that I never had before. He made the most mundane things exciting and interesting. There was something magnetic about Clayton Reed that made it almost impossible for me to stay away from him.
We were still technically “friends.” However, we danced on a very fine line between friendship and something else. I could feel it. I knew Clay could feel it. But I also knew Clay held back for some reason, and right now I was okay with letting us go at his pace. Because I knew it would lead to something life altering. Even though it drove me nuts.
Clay continued to garner a lot of attention from the girls at Jackson High School. I hated the painful jealousy I’d feel whenever I watched some stupid cheerleader or other annoying flirty girl try to get his attention. I was possessive of my relationship with Clay in a way that surprised me. But I found, to my intense relief, that he seemed content with spending time within my small circle.
I had come to realize how amazing Clayton Reed was and I didn’t want to share him.
“What’s wrong with going to a party?” I asked innocently, deliberately not acknowledging his wariness. I passed him a handful of pewter figurines and he carefully placed them on top of the case. I watched his purposeful yet delicate movements and thought about those hands touching me with the same gentleness.
Clayton seemed to be weighing his words before he answered me. “I’m just not really a party person anymore.”
“Anymore? Were you a party person before?” I asked him.
Clayton sat back on the chair behind him and started digging through the box on the floor at his feet. He was still so choosy in the information he revealed about himself. I had learned in the past few weeks that he felt his parents could no longer “deal” with him and that’s why he was now living with his aunt. He admitted to having a lot of “problems” and it had become too much for his mom and dad to “handle.” His aunt was apparently much more patient and supportive of him, and he felt more relaxed in her home than he ever did with his parents.
“Yeah, partying was part of my issue in Florida,” he said, getting up and carrying the box to the back room. Tilly gave him a smile as he passed. Her smile at me was much tighter and I knew it bothered the older girl that I hung out with Clayton in the store, which she must have viewed as her territory.
Okay, so maybe my smile was a little smug as I followed Clayton with another box. But I couldn’t help it. “Do you need any help, Clay?” Tilly called out. She was tenacious, I’d give her that.
“We’re good, Tilly. Thanks, though,” Clay replied over his shoulder without looking in her direction (earning Tilly another smug smile from yours truly).
I dropped my box on the floor inside the dark storage room. “Be careful, Mags. Ruby will have my head if you break the crystal balls in there,” he said sharply, quickly looking through the box to make sure everything was still in one piece. Despite his terse tone, I thrilled at his use of my nickname. I loved it when he called me Mags instead of Maggie, thinking it hinted at an intimacy that I desperately longed for.
“Sorry, Clay,” I said, sitting down in a metal chair. I stretched my back after carrying the heavy box. “So, you had a problem with partying in Florida? What kind of problem?” I asked as he sorted through the greeting cards inside his box. Clay looked up at me with that unreadable expression he was prone to displaying.
“Well, I got in heavy with drugs and stuff. Hanging with the wrong crowd and all. Things got a little out of control for a while. But that was only a symptom of everything else, I guess.” His voice was cagey, always aware of how much he was revealing about himself.
“Wow, Clay—you just don’t seem like that kind of guy. I’m a bit surprised,” I said, watching him closely.
Clayton sighed. “I’m definitely that kind of guy. You have no idea,” he muttered. I wanted to ask him more. To find out how “out of control” he had been. I wanted to know everything about my mysterious friend, but he remained hesitant and wary. Despite how close we were becoming, there was a very significant line that I just couldn’t cross. Yet.
“So, no party, then?” I asked him. Clay’s shoulders dropped as he stood up. He seemed unsure of himself and it made me want to hug him.
“Would we go there together?” he asked me. Would we ever! I wouldn’t let him out of my sight if I could help it.
But I responded with an airy “Of course, if you want to.”
Clay seemed to be ruminating over his response. How a high-school party could be such a matter of life and death was beyond me. “And Rachel and Daniel are going?” Clearly he needed strength in numbers or something. I nodded. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll go. If you want me to.” He looked at me, waiting for my affirmation.
“I’d love for you to go,” I said, relieved that he would be with me in a social setting. I had this primal need to mark him as mine. To make it clear to all the idiots at school that he belonged to me. Wow, had I gone all alpha?
“Will there be, you know, drinking and stuff? Because that’s kind of hard for me,” he admitted softly. He seemed sad all of a sudden, the change in him catching me by surprise. His moods were so up and down; he was hard to keep up with.
“Melissa’s parties aren’t like that. Her parents are usually there somewhere. It’s typically a bonfire in her back field with music and people just hanging out. It’s a good time.” Clay still seemed a bit unsure but took me at my word.
“Okay, then; sounds good,” he said, giving his first real smile since I had brought the whole party thing up.
“Great!” I said a little too loudly, and I winced at my overt display of enthusiasm. Clay reached over and squeezed my hand. I startled at the physical contact. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, so I was taken aback by it.
“You’re so cute when you get excited,” he said, looking at me with something that could only be described as tenderness.
I know I stopped breathing. He thought I was cute? Our eyes held each other’s, not moving away. A moment began to build and Clay took in a sharp breath. His eyes dropped to my lips and I could have sworn he wanted to kiss me. My tongue darted out and wet my suddenly dry lips, and I watched his eyes follow the movement.
The air crackled with the tension. Clayton’s eyes burned with intensity. I felt like we were trapped in slow motion. His hand came up and lightly touched my face. I angled my cheek toward his palm and I closed my eyes.
“Maggie,” he whispered, his breath on my face as he moved closer.
And my phone started buzzing in my pocket. Why did this always happen?! Clay immediately jumped back, putting space between us. He was suddenly focused on finishing his task of unloading the boxes on the floor. Crap! Someone had better be dying! I glanced at the screen on my phone and saw Rachel’s name.
