20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

C leo chewed her lip. She had to think of a really great question. They were almost to the end, and she was running out of chances to see Clark’s tattoo, because that’s what she’d make him do if she won.

Also, she was starting to get panicky about seeing her mom. Or not seeing her. Either outcome was stressing her out. As was the threat of Guayabera Guy finding her. She needed to keep herself distracted.

Turning in her seat to face Clark she said, “Tell me about your first kiss.” He opened his mouth but Cleo quickly added, “And you have to have been older than ten when it happened. I don’t want to hear about some sloppy sandbox kiss when you were two.”

“Wow, what kind of toddlerhood did you have?”

“Oh, I definitely shared the love. I’m surprised I didn’t get baby mono.”

He smirked. “Well, my first kiss didn’t happen until much later. Much, much later. I was a late bloomer you could say, so I didn’t attract much attention from the ladies until I was like seventeen.”

And when he did, he probably got all the attention. Cleo could picture a younger version of Clark, finally growing into his body and turning heads everywhere he went.

“There was this one girl who I’d sat next to in choir–”

“You were in choir?”

Clark puffed out his chest. “I’ll have you know I have a stellar choir-slash-shower-voice.”

“Tenor or bass?”

“Bass. Anyway, so she’d sat next to me the entire year before, and she always smelled like watermelon.” He cocked his head. “I always wondered how that was possible. I mean, even with all my sisters, I’d never smelt a watermelon fragrance before. I was a big fan.”

“Aw, is that all it takes to win over Clark Kent? A little fruit spray?”

“That’s what did it for teenage Clark, apparently. I have much more distinguished tastes these days,” he sniffed. “Anyway, so I’d been trying to flirt with this girl, Charity, all year, but I know she looked at me like a cute puppy or something. So the first day of choir the next year, I sat down next to Charity and she gave me this little smile and tucked her hair behind her ear and I thought, Dang! This is it! The moment I waited for all last year. And then she asked me my name and if I was new to the school.”

Cleo’s mouth opened. “She didn’t recognize you?”

“Not even a little. I had a different hairstyle in addition to growing so much, so I guess it’s not that strange I was unrecognizable. But I wasn’t sure what to do. Did I play it cool and pretend like we were strangers, or did I remind her how we’d called our choir teacher Mr. Anally instead of Mr. Connolly the entire year before and hope it jogged her memory?”

Cleo rested her elbows on her legs. “So, what did you do?” How was she suddenly so invested in this teenage drama Clark was telling her? She could smell the choir room stuffed full of stinky teens and everything.

“I didn’t get a chance to do anything because one of my buddies came up and started talking to us then. Recognition dawned on Charity’s face as she realized who I was.”

“And that’s when she grabbed you and kissed your face off before some other girl could claim you?”

“Not quite. She did ask me to meet her that night at the first football game.”

“And you made out under the bleachers?”

“I think ‘making out’ would be generous, but we did kiss, rather poorly I’d say, under the bleachers.”

“So predictable. How many sports events have I attended where hormonal teens have been kissing beneath my feet and I didn’t even know it?”

“Probably a lot. Did you ever do it?”

“Kiss under the bleachers? No. We kissed in much more sophisticated places.”

“Like Wendy’s?”

“Like Wendy’s.”

Clark chuckled and grabbed a Twizzler from the package open between them. “This isn’t my official next question, I just want to know how old you were when you had your first kiss.”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen? I don’t think I knew how to tie my shoes at thirteen. Was he older?”

“Yes. He was a super mature fourteen-year-old with braces. I remember how those stupid braces chewed up my lips because he was a sloppy kisser. That’s probably why I broke up with him a few weeks later.”

“Ooh, harsh.”

“Yeah, I’ve been breaking hearts since thirteen.” The laughter that bubbled up was silenced as she realized how that sounded. Viewing her situation through Clark’s eyes, he probably thought it wasn’t far from the truth. Her one consolation with her newest jilting was that she was almost certain she hadn’t broken Jameson’s heart when she left, probably just wounded his pride. “What is your official next question then?”

Clark shifted in his seat like he was uncomfortable and then asked, “What would it take to win over the lovely Claudette?”

Cleo’s heart leapt in her chest. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you obviously have very discerning taste in men, as you should have. I know what you’re not into: *cough jerks cough*,” he said between fake coughs. “So, what is it you are looking for?”

Cleo didn’t know how to answer that. She’d never sat down and written up qualifications; it had to happen more organically than checking off a list. She figured she’d just know it when she felt it. It would feel safe and homey, but also fluttery. Kind of like how she felt with Clark.

Aaaaand, there it was. She had to finally admit to herself that she liked Clark. A lot. Of course she did. What wasn't to like? Not only was he easy on the eyes, but he made her feel like the best version of herself when she was around him. Add in that he was kind and funny, and it was easy to see how she'd never stood a chance.

Cleo wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans and cleared her throat. He was waiting for her answer, clueless to the revelation that had just hit Cleo like a Mack truck. She wasn’t exactly free to like Clark–she had a fiance? a few days ago, one she still hadn’t spoken with–and yet she’d fallen for another guy anyway. What was wrong with her?

She pulled her knees up to her chest, averting her gaze so as not to give anything away. These feelings were too new and raw, like a litter of kittens whose mama was keeping them hidden until she felt ready to expose them to the world. Cleo jumped when Clark said her name.

"Cleo?"

Oh right, the question. “Uh, I don’t really have a laundry list, other than he has to be genuine and kind. I mean, it would be great if he were good looking, too, but I don’t really care much about that,” which was crazy to admit based on her track record with hot guys. But now that the words were coming out of her mouth, she could say she definitely didn’t really care about looks, so long as the man had integrity and treated her well. Those qualities would make him handsome already. Maybe that sounded ridiculous after the revelation she’d just had, since the guy she was crushing on next to her was oh so gorgeous, so it was easy to say she was unaffected by good looks. But she maintained that even if he’d been homely, she’d have liked him. For the love , she thought. She was glad no one could hear these inner thought bubbles. They sounded shallow enough to pop.

“And what about how much money he has?”

“I don’t care about that either.” Clark arched an eyebrow and Cleo doubled down. “I don’t. I’m living off of less than $500 right now and surviving, and I think I could be okay being poor.” She put her hands out in front of her. “Okay, maybe not poor. Basic needs have to be met. But otherwise, yeah, I don’t need to be rich.”

Cleo had grown certain that she didn’t need lots of money to be happy. She couldn’t believe she was saying that after growing up as rich as she’d been, but she knew a lot of her problems in life came because of the kind of lifestyle they had. It hadn’t made her father or her happy, so obviously it wasn’t necessary. She knew there was a big difference between being poor and being comfortable, and she’d never wish poverty on anyone. But more money meant more problems, as far as she could tell, and she was done with that life.

Clark wasn’t letting it go. “So, no expensive gestures to sweep you off your feet?” Cleo vigorously shook her head. “You would be comfortable living in a modest home, wearing clothes from the same place you buy your groceries?” Cleo paused for a moment before nodding. “You’d vacation in Yellowstone instead of Tahiti?” A thought niggled at her. These pointed questions about her expensive lifestyle weren’t new; he’d made a crack about it the first day they’d met, too. Did he really just piece it together then, or did Clark somehow know her from the gossip rags? A lead ball dropped into Cleo’s stomach. Had he figured out who she was? She wasn’t famous, but she definitely rubbed shoulders with enough people who were that she’d shown up in magazines and articles online here and there. What exactly did Clark know? An idea popped into her head that might give her some insight into what he knew of her.

“What was your first impression of me?” she asked him. His jaw clenched in a move that momentarily scrambled her thoughts. Cleo loved jaw flexes, like Patrick Swayze at the end of Dirty Dancing, or Channing Tatum or Tom Cruise. She shook her head to clear it. Focus, Cleo .

She added, “Don’t forget, complete honesty here. I can take it.” Cleo was pretty sure she already knew what he was going to say. Her wedding gown had looked as expensive as it was, and she must have seemed a bit deranged, throwing herself into a stranger’s cab. He’d probably thought she was a spoiled little rich girl who didn’t get her way on her wedding day and was throwing an adult-sized tantrum about it. So what he said next shocked her.

“I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

She gulped. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll admit, at first I was annoyed. I mean, the audacity of some random person commandeering my taxi when I was using it already. But then I saw her face and quickly understood.”

“What?” Cleo’s nails bit into her palms as she clenched them.

He waited a beat before replying, “That an angel needed help, and I was in a position to give it to her, devil that I was.”

Cleo scoffed. “I was not an angel.”

“But I was a devil.”

Cleo pondered this. “Mmm, I’d say more grouchy than devil.”

“In my defense, you’d caught me having a bad…month. I wouldn’t say I’m ever Mr. Sunshine, but that day had been particularly frustrating.”

“How so?”

“Just some news I’d received.” Cleo’s thoughts flashed back to the texts Clark read aloud. Had the news been from one of those people? “It doesn’t excuse my behavior, but maybe it explains it at least.”

“And so you thought, ‘I’m going to redeem myself from my boorish behavior and rescue this damsel in distress.’”

Clark chuckled. “Ha! You seemed to have the situation well in hand. I just went along for the ride at that point.”

Cleo reviewed everything that had happened since they’d agreed to share a cab, then a rental car. It was not how she’d have planned her escape going if she could’ve engineered it all herself; but if she were honest, it had ended up better than she could’ve anticipated. She hadn’t run out of money yet, she made a new friend with the most unlikely person in Dottie, she’d seen places she’d always wanted to, and she’d done it all with a handsome stranger who she’d somehow started to open her heart to. Cleo was a big fan of this road trip thing.

“Well, for the record, and because I’m sure you’re dying to know, my first impression of you was, ‘Hot!’ But then you scowled at me and popped that happy thought. And then you came to my rescue, and you were a little handsome again, though unapproachable and standoffish.” Clark flashed her a quizzical look, so she explained, “I tried to thank you, and you didn’t even acknowledge me.”

“Unpardonable.”

“Truly.”

“When a gorgeous woman in a bridal dress climbs into your car, it tends to scramble one’s brains a bit.”

The compliment painted a rosy hue all over Cleo, but she demurred. “Ha! Flattery will get you nowhere.”

He sighed. “It usually does.”

The traffic had slowly started to pick up again when Clark said, “I have no idea whose question it is.”

“I think we’re done.”

“Wait, what? Who won?”

“Me, of course.”

“No way. You passed at least twice.”

“So competitive!” she teased. “I lied, you win.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I lost count to be honest, but I’m pretty sure I passed more than you. I owe you a truth and a dare.” Cleo swallowed, her insides squirming. This sounded like a bigger deal all of a sudden than other times she’d played. What would Clark make her do? “Go ahead then.”

Clark didn’t reply for a minute. “I actually have no idea what I’m going to ask. Can I have some time to think about it?” he queried.

“Sure.” The tension lessened as she realized she was off the hook, for a little while at least.

“Then let’s grab some TexMex somewhere, and hopefully by the time we’re back on the freeway, this traffic will be gone.”