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“Omigod, you look like one of those Chippendale strippers,” Claire snickered, clapping her hands together in delight. “Let’s go, cowboy!”
“Yee-fucking-haw.” Throwing shapes like I was fucking the air around me, I flexed my hips, shook my tits, and dry-humped her desk chair like my life depended on it. In a weird way, it did, because this girl was my entire world, and making her feel better was my only priority.
I was certain Johnny and Hugh had far more superior methods of persuasion when it came to making their girls feel better, but I had all the experience of a carrier bag in this department. What I did have at my disposal was a lack of shame, the enthusiasm of a puppy, and hips that rivaled Elvis.
Unable to quit while I was ahead, because I clearly lacked boundaries, I pushed it up a notch and pulled Claire into my arms, dancing her around the room like I was her own personal horse.
“Oh my god,” she laughed, clinging to my shoulders. “Stop, stop, stop, Gerard. I’m going to pee.”
“How dare you!” Lizzie’s furious voice filled the air a moment later, followed by the sound of a door slamming. “How fucking dare you talk to my mother about me!”
“Liz!” Claire yelped, scrambling off my back and rushing over to turn off the music. “What are you…”
“What am I doing here?” Lizzie cut in, picking up a rogue hockey stick and then tossing it against the wall. “What are you doing, more like. As in what are you doing talking shit about me behind my back?”
Whoa.
“That’s not what I was doing! And I wasn’t talking shit, Liz, I swear. I was just…”
“You were just sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong,” Lizzie spat out, roughly shoving Claire away when she tried to hug her. “How fucking dare you tell my mother that! What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was trying to help you!”
“Well, you didn’t help, Claire. In fact, you just made my life a million times worse.”
“Liz, please!”
“No, don’t touch me.”
“I didn’t mean to make it worse for you, I promise. I was just trying to help…”
“Well, congratulations because all you managed to do was make an already grieving mother’s life harder.”
“Liz, please…”
“No! Stop. Dammit, Claire I don’t want a fucking hug right now!”
“Hey! Hold the fuck up!” I warned, feeling my hackles rise when Claire staggered backwards from the force of being shoved backwards again. “Don’t put your hands on her.”
“Stay out of this, Thor!”
“Gerard, it’s fine.”
“Like hell it’s fine,” I snapped, moving to stand between them. “Take all the swipes you want off me but keep your goddamn hands off her!”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Lizzie spat out. “Good old gallant Gibsie taking another one for the team? Well, fuck you, asshole! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”
“You’re a bitch,” I hissed, pushing Claire behind me. “Do you hear me? You are a fucking head case!”
“I’m so sorry,” Claire continued to say, using the back of her hand to wipe her cheeks. “Liz, I swear I was just trying to help.”
Lizzie laughed humorlessly even though tears were trickling steadily down her cheeks, matching the ones falling from Claire’s eyes. “You have some nerve to speak to me like that.”
“Like what?” I demanded. “Like I’m not sorry for you? Well, guess the fuck what, Liz? I’m all out of pity. The well ran dry a long time ago.”
“Yeah?” she sneered. “Well, I’d rather be a bitch than a rapist any day!”
“I’m not a fucking rapist!”
