When I remain stiff, he pulls back with a heavier sigh that curdles every fluid inside me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t think I understand this game. You probably don’t want to kiss me, though. I’m not sure I’m very good at it.”
“Who told you that?” he asks.
“I…did?”
His brow arches.
Breaths short, I say, “I’ve never been kissed before. So I don’t know how to do it well. And I tend to need a lot of practice for things, because I’m not very smart, and—”
Violence.
Sheer, unfetteredviolencepours off him and shuts me up.
His eyes close, sparing me from a fraction of his intensity. Very slowly, he says, “You’ve never been kissed before, but you were going to let me kiss you just now if Iwanted to, on a whim?”
I wish his eyes were open so I could just nod. Every word leaving my mouth feels like a dagger I’m about to choke on. “Yes?”
His eyes snap open, hitting me full force. “Hate that.”
What does he expect from me? He just spentthousandson me. Don’t I owe him something now? That’s how the world works. I don’t get a say in it. Everyone is always focused on give and take. My parents raised me. They fed me, clothed me, kept a roof over my head, gave me an education, so now I respect and obey them. I owe them my entire existence. It doesn’t matter what Iwant.
I’m in debt.
I was born into debt, becausedebtis the only way you get this far alive.
“Let’s try a boundary…” Lukas begins, regaining something akin to patience. “Tell me that if I try to kiss you against your will tonight, you’re not making chocolate muffins for me tomorrow.”
“Oh, I couldn’t say that,” I offer, frail.
His fists clench. “Whyever not?”
It takes a great big effort to inhale. “You’ve bought me a lot of nice things and you’ve asked me to do one small thing in return. It would be mean to manipulate you like that.”
“Manip—” A muscle in his jaw ticks, and my heart races.
“I’m so sorry,” I exhale. “I don’t think I understand what you want from me.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “You can kiss me if you want. I’ll stop being stupid. I’ll try to be good at it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
His weight leaves my bed. “You’re not stupid. And…I have a feeling you’d be impeccable at it, Clara,” he murmurs.
I squint, daring to look at him.
“But all I want from you…is chocolate muffins. ’Kay?”
Just chocolate muffins?
Rustling my damp hair again, he forces a small smile. “I want chocolate muffins tomorrow morning. That’s all. Don’t worry about anything else. I was messing around. I’m sorry. It was a silly game. You’re not stupid; I am.” He motions at my laptop. “Keep up the great work. You’re doing beautifully, and I’m proud of you.”
My heart flutters, for some reason.
“O…kay?”
“Night, cupcake. Sleep well.”
Biting my cheek, I hold back tears as Lukas leaves, then I melt into my nice soft bed, and try very hard not to cry myself to sleep.
