Chapter Eighteen
Mars
Clark fiddled with the stereo in my bedroom. The couch was folded out into a bed, and we were both sprawled across the blankets to catch the little bit of sun that came through the window. Clark kept switching out the records and usually only listened to a couple songs on each.
“Now this one, I know,” he said, lifting a Heart album from the pile.
“You like Heart?” I asked. “How is it possible you don’t know a single band in my collection except for Heart?”
“My mom,” he said happily. “She was a huge Heart fan. I think we listened to ‘Crazy on You’ more than any other song when I was growing up.” He smiled to himself, then spun the record in his hand one more time. “It was my warmup song before soccer matches as a kid.”
“Nice choice, Mom,” I said.
Clark scrunched up his lips, then shoved the record back in the box.
“What, you don’t want to listen to your old favorite?”
He shook his head quickly. “It’s not that. Just…”
I pushed myself up on my elbows and cocked an eyebrow his way. “What, are you afraid to talk about your family because you have a good relationship with them?”
“Not exactly,” he answered. “But I don’t want to make you feel bad, either.”
“Trust me, Clark,” I said. “I’m used to other people having families.”
He turned to me, and I noticed the light blush spreading on his cheeks. “You said you don’t talk to your family at all?”
I shook my head. Usually, people got pushy and asked about my childhood much earlier than Clark did. I had almost started to believe I could skip the conversation altogether, although the more I got to know him, the more inevitable it seemed.
“Not sure what happened to my father,” I said. “My mom turned me over to the state when I was about six, so I don’t remember her too well, either. I used to dream about the rest of my family more. I had these fantasies where an aunt or an uncle would show up, and I’d suddenly have a whole family, with cousins to play with and a nice vacation house by a beach somewhere. But by the time I ran off to live on my own, I knew none of that bullshit was going to happen.”
Clark’s face crumpled a little, but he just nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
I shrugged. “Family isn’t for me,” I said. “Never has been, and probably never will be, either.” I kicked my legs out, stretching them down the mattress. “Part of why I prefer more short-term arrangements, you know?”
Clark crossed his arms over his chest. “Isn’t that what they all say?” he teased.
He got this look on his face sometimes. It was like he was a little bit wound up and a little bit nervous, but he still couldn’t help himself from acting sassy. With his lips pursed and his arms folded, it made me want to dive across the foldout bed, wrestle him to the ground, and feel him unravel in my hands.
Patience, Mars…Clark will tell you when he’s ready.
I scoffed. “If you think I’m going to be a family man, you really haven’t been paying attention, buddy.”
Clark giggled to himself. “I definitely don’t expect you to start coaching the Little League team, but you’ve hardly been chasing guys around town lately.”
“Not true,” I objected. “I’ve been flirting my way through the regulars at the Steel Rose.” I squinted, realizing how long it had been since I had an actual hookup. “The piercing gigs are taking up a lot of time, too,” I pointed out. “On top of just moving to a new city.”
Clark’s lips turned up in a grin. “Or maybe you’ve just got a crush on me.”
I pushed myself up onto my knees, then crawled closer to him, like I was about to pounce. “I’m not trying to hide that,” I said as I dropped my voice closer to a growl.
Clark bit down on his bottom lip, but he held my gaze. “Maybe the only reason you haven’t been hooking up,” he said, “is because you can’t stop thinking about me.”
I crawled closer, placing my body inches from his. “Is that what you think?” I teased. “Because I can stop acting like a gentleman anytime. You just say the word.”
I didn’t think I was avoiding hooking up with other guys because of Clark. That wasn’t the kind of thing I did. It was like I said: just flirtations that didn’t go anywhere and a busier schedule than I was used to. But I’d also gone a very long time without some much-needed release. And if Clark was trying to tell me that he was ready to fool around, I fully intended to take advantage of the situation and stop burying the impulses that told me to rip his clothes off his body and drive him wild with my tongue.
Clark glanced toward the entrance to the apartment, as though confirming we were alone.
