12. Clara

CHAPTER 12

CLARA

I can’t wait to tell everyone how much I love you. Graduation is soon, then we’ll be free. - Nick

What made him change his mind?

Why couldn’t he talk to me about his concerns?

The questions that had haunted me in the past and wouldn’t let me be with him now were the ones I was terrified to ask, because deep down, I already knew the answer to both:

I wasn’t good enough.

Maybe things would be different now, like he’d said. We’d grown up, after all. We were on our own, no longer bound to the rules of our mothers. Their opinions held no weight now; we were free. I’d made something out of myself and so had he. If we had another chance to be together out in the open, without all the secrecy, would that really make a difference?

I turned, burying my face in my pillow. Sleep was out of the question when I was being bombarded with all these out-of-control thoughts.

Sunlight streamed through my window, and I pulled my covers over my face with a groan.

It will never work with him. We’d hurt each other too much to ever move past it.

The feeling of being small and powerless, the knowledge that I would never truly be accepted for who I was and where I had come from, was at the core of all my problems and, intentional or not, he had been a huge part of creating them. It was the wound that would not heal, no matter how many bandages I covered it with.

I was a broken girl from a broken home who had clawed her way up to make herself seem better than she was. The way I had been treated ever since childhood was part of me, ingrained in me, and no matter what I did—the years of therapy, my job as an attorney, my house, my money—nothing completely got rid of it.

What if he found out how I’d put myself through college?

What would he think of me then?

How would he explain to his sweet, beautiful, innocent children that he was dating a woman who stripped to pay her way through college and law school? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t, and I refused to consider letting him, no matter what he said if he ever found out the truth. He was a good guy. He’d say all the right things and I’d be so tempted to take what I wanted without a care.

A knock at my door had me frozen in my bed.

Shit.

It had to be Nick. With breakfast and some kind of hangover cure.

Gah!What I really needed was coffee and maybe a bubble bath. Combine the two and we’d have a winner.

Nick at my door was the opposite of what I needed.

Or maybe he’s everything you need?Shut up, brain.

I threw the covers back, determined to snatch whatever he’d brought me, thank him for being neighborly, then slam the door in his face. It was the best thing for both of us.

A clean break.

No more wondering what if?

No more questioning if we could start over.

None of it.

He had kids to consider, and I was bad news, bad at love, just bad—everyone said so.

I had to be the strong one for both of us. Story of my damn life.

I grabbed the robe off the footboard of my bed and slipped into it.

Why was I so angry?He’d done nothing to deserve all the shit going around in my brain. Nothing recent, anyway.

Deep breath. In with the good, out with the wackadoodle bullcrap that usually fills your head.

“Alexa, play!” I shrieked as I ran down the stairs.

“The past has no bearing on your present. It exists as lessons to learn, nothing more . . .”

“Freakin’ hell, are you serious with this right now?” I yelled to the room. “Alexa, stop!”

I threw open the door. Damn, he looked good. Dark gray joggers, white T-shirt, tight in all the right places, and a pair of sneakers. He was like a walking, talking buffet of all my favorite man parts. Big biceps, wide chest, messy morning hair—he’d better not turn around or I might take a bite out of his ass.

“Good morning, heartbreaker.”

“Heartbreaker? Really?”

“The look on your face is ominous. You’re a walking, talking thundercloud, aren’t you? Heartbreaker seemed apropos. Perhaps even prophetic.”

I had to make him understand. “This isn’t going to work. I can’t be your friend—or anything else—when I can’t let anything go. I can’t try for more when I know we’ll end up breaking each other’s hearts again somehow. It’s too complicated.”

He held up a plastic bag filled with a bunch of that fancy glass storage container crap I kept meaning to buy. “I made breakfast, baby. Let me in. You look” —I glared at him, hard—“as gorgeous as ever, of course. And also, uh, like you might need what I brought you.” He held a travel mug under my nose. One sniff told me it was coffee. Good coffee. Score one for Nick.

Damn it.

I took it and turned toward my kitchen, leaving the door open. He could follow me inside, or not. I’d leave that up to him.

“Come in, if you want,” I tossed over my shoulder. “But know I can’t guarantee your safety. I woke up in a mood.”

“Hungover?” The door closed behind him, and I heaved out a sigh. I guess we were doing this.

I growled in answer as I swung open my fridge in search of my hazelnut creamer.

I could hear his smirk when he said, “I’d say I don’t want to fight with you, but it would be a lie. This is kind of fun.”

“Shut up,” I huffed. “You’re way too cheerful. It’s too early and I’m miserable. I’m trying not to be rude, but it’s impossible. I apologize in advance for every mean thing I will inevitably end up saying to you. I’ll only mean about one percent of it. Probably.”

He let out a chuckle. “And I forgive you in advance for all if it. Five tequila shots are a lot for a lightweight like you.”

I spun to treat him to another of my signature glares over the top of the refrigerator door—this one was number three on my don’t fuck with me rotation. Snarly, with just a bit of teeth thrown in for good measure.

His return grin was as infuriating as it was hot.

I was both confused and turned on and now at a complete loss as to what to say to him because I, too, was now having fun. “You are aggravating me right now,” I finally muttered.

“Really? I couldn’t tell. It seems like bringing you food and pissing you off is the way to your heart. Not gonna lie, I’m totally into it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Nick.”

“Keep it up. None of this is a turnoff, heartbreaker.”

“You can’t call me that anymore. It makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. I’m a mess right now.”

“And?”

“I have turned into a difficult woman, Nick. Ask around, you’ll find out.”

“Why would I give a shit what anyone else thinks about you? I think you’re amazing. You’re sexy as hell, you make me laugh, but best of all you make me feel alive again. Fuck what anyone else says about you.”

I dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “Argh! I am damaged goods, okay? I carry baggage from so many different things that I am collapsing beneath the weight of it. I am not the same. I can’t be that girl you used to know. I am grown now, and I am fucking unhinged. I’m trying my best to keep my head above water, and I am not ready for this thing—whatever it is—with you.” Well, that ought to do it. After he turned tail and ran off, I could relax with this awesome-looking breakfast I was about to stuff my face with. Maybe I’d even keep the containers too. Payment for my pain and suffering.

“There’s something still between us and ready or not, it’s happening.”

I blinked. He was still here, and he was incensed.

Angry Nick was sexy. His broad chest heaved with determination, and his jaw was clenched tight. I’d never seen him mad at me before and it was even hotter than when he was cheerful and teasing me. Damn it.

“It doesn’t matter if we’re ready,” he insisted. “Me and you explode when we’re together, Clara. It’s out of control. You’re beyond any temptation I’ve ever felt in my entire life, and I don’t want it to stop. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit you don’t want it to stop either.”

I threw my arms in the air. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I’m no good for you. I’m not in a healthy place right now. I just went through a breakup. I’m not ready to jump into anything new. Or old as the case may be, okay?”

“Did he break your heart?”

I thought for a minute. “Not really. I think I’ve been living with a broken heart ever since my father left. It never repaired itself. Maybe it never will.”

“Consider this—maybe I’m the one who’s supposed to heal it for you.”

I shook my head. “It’s been too long. This is too much for me . . .”

“I’ll drop it for now. I get it,” he conceded. “I promise I do, and we’ll talk everything out⁠—”

My head hit my arms on the table, and I shook my head. “Not ready for that,” I managed to mumble.

What I didn’t tell him was I didn’t even need to hear his explanation. It didn’t matter—why wouldn’t I forgive him for whatever it was that drove him away when we were both too young to know any better?

What I really wasn’t ready for was to be near him with no excuse to push him away.

How horrible did that make me?

He dropped into the seat across from me and rubbed comforting strokes over the top of my head. “I know, baby, shh . . .” The deep soothing quality in his voice hit me like a ton of bricks. “I won’t say a word until you’re ready to hear it. But listen, you don’t know me anymore, either. Please think about that. You have no idea how I felt when I lost you. Not one fucking clue about how much it broke me. I wasn’t a man back then, I was a stupid eighteen-year-old kid, just like you were.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Why?

How selfish was I?

He had feelings too, and here I was, trampling all over them, too lost in my own shit to listen to him.

“I’m listening,” I said into my arm. “And I’m so sorry for being selfish this morning. I’m hungover, I’m probably going to barf at some point, and I’m cranky as hell, that’s my only defense.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m not exactly fun to be around with a hangover either. If I’d had even half a clue back then I would have fought for you, for us.”

My head popped up. “Oh, Nick. I’m so sorry, I⁠—”

He held up a hand. “No apologies. We were kids, Clara. What do eighteen-year-olds know about life? Jack shit, that’s what.”

“You have a point. Clearly, I was not my best self at age eighteen. I’m not even my best self right now, for eff’s sake.”

“Hey, I’m not either.” He chuckled. “Don’t beat yourself up, baby. It’s pointless. I spent my first year at college drunk as hell because all I could think about was missing you. We had no idea what we had with each other. I’m beginning to think we were a classic ‘right person, wrong time’ scenario. It took a whole lot of trying to cope with more than a decade of shit to make me see what I lost when I let you slip away. You said it yourself last night, remember?”

“Yeah, I wanted to feel it again,” I whispered.

“And did you?” The anger was gone, replaced by the sweet Nick I used to know, but he was still just as sexy. Obviously, I was into him again. Still?

“I—”

He pressed a fingertip to my lips. “Don’t answer that. You said you weren’t ready, and I want to honor your feelings. I’m not here to push you. I’m here to take care of you because you need it, okay?”

“Thank you. I really do feel like hell. I’m never drinking again,” I groaned. “Like, I can’t believe how much I could put away back in high school and not feel it. It’s ridiculous.”

“I’m glad you made it through. High school was rough.”

“You were a lot of what got me through. I need you to know that.”

“Oh Clara, I wish I could have done more⁠—”

“Like you said, we were kids, right?”

“Yeah.” He ducked his chin and looked up at me through his lashes. “So, are we okay?”

“For now, I guess. If I didn’t drive you away with my hungover ranting.”

“I don’t know what it says about me, and I don’t care, but I think you’re hot as fuck right now. The more attitude you throw my way, the more into you I get.”

“Maybe you’re a little bit crazy too.”

“You have no idea.” He stood, gathering the remains of our breakfast and putting it all in the bag. “I want you to get back into bed. You need rest.” He handed me a huge bottle of water from the bag. “Take this with you and drink as much as you can. Hydration is key.”

“You’re a bit bossy now, aren’t you? Honestly, I find it a turnoff.” Typical male, thinking he could tell me what to do. I was not into that.

Lies! It was hot as hell and that damn smirk on his face told me he knew it.

“Bullshit. You love it. You need someone like me around to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” I said in my most derisive tone. “Been doing it for years.”

“Of course you can, but that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I don’t know any such thing,” I muttered.

He stood to leave. “I’ll text you later. I’ll bring dinner by if you’re awake.”

“Whatever.” I stood too, then sighed. “I mean, thanks, I suppose.”

I walked him to the door.

“See you soon, my grumpy little heartbreaker. Go back to bed.” He grabbed me by the back of my neck and dropped a kiss to my forehead. “Try not to think about what it would be like if I came up there to tuck you in,” he murmured before turning around to leave.

I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back.

“Drink that water,” he called with a wave over his shoulder. “All of it. Don’t make me come back and force a Gatorade down your throat.” The laughter in his voice told me he knew better than to look back.