Page 68 of Chasing Clouds

“No, don’t you ‘Camille’ me. You left me at eighteen. I’m twenty-three years old, twenty-four next month—what do you really know about me anymore? Five years is a long time, Clare. People change. I’ve changed. You should know that, but you don’t.”

My eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but I refuse to let them drop. That steel spine of mine has me lifting my chin just the slightest, daring her to disagree with me, and I watch her chest expand as she takes in a big gulp of air.

From across the yard, we hear the doorbell ring.

“Who’s that?” she asks, her head turning toward the house.

“Our father.” I roll my eyes. “I swear he has spies. It’s like he knew I was back in town before I even did. He”—I raise my hands and sign quotation marks—“put me on his calendar and scheduled us an appointment.”

“What does he want?” she asks, spinning back to look at me.

“You know what he wants—what he always does: control.”

Clare doesn’t say anything, just tilts her head a little and studies me.

Silence falls over us and my heart starts beating harder in my chest. I hate confrontation. I hate making people unhappy, and I hate that this is how we’re ending things.

“Will you be here later?”

She shrugs her shoulders and I feel mine collapse. It’s such a losing battle with her, with everyone, and I’m over it—I’m over it all. I just spent the last five weeks repairing parts of me I allowed others to damage, and no more. For so long I’ve suppressed my voice, and that ends today—with her, with my father, and even with Reid. If they don’t like who I am, that’s their loss.

Standing a little taller, I tighten my ponytail, brush the dust off my clothes, and pin her with a glower. “I’ll see you when I see you.” With that I turn and walk out the door.

Shaking my head, I stomp through the back yard. I mean, why even come here? All she ever does is scold me and tell me I’m making the wrong choices, choices that were originally because of her and for her. Well, I’m done waiting around for her, too. I keep clinging to these moments because she’s my sister and I love her, but they are so few and far between lately, what’s the point? What did I get today, five, maybe ten minutes?

I slam the kitchen door as I enter the house. I find my father in the living room, staring out the window toward the carriage house. Was he watching me? Us? Can he see she is here? He turns to face me, wearing his typical suit of armor—a suit and tie—and I spot several manila folders tucked under his arm. I am so not in the mood to deal with him or his crap today. His gaze sweeps over me from head to toe and he frowns. Interestingly, I feel numb to his apparent disapproval, and this fuels me with even more strength to do what I have to do.

Bring it on, Father. It’s time to get this over with, once and for all.

COMING OUT OF the locker room, I’m surprised to see the skies have turned dark. This morning on my way in to the training facility, they were bright blue, but now they’re filled with low-hanging clouds. Florida thunderstorms still amaze me. They roll in and roll out in barely the blink of an eye, but in the moment, they can be ferocious.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her, and man do I want to, I just don’t know where we go from here. This weekend coming up will be the end of our two-month arrangement, and I have no idea how she feels about this, nor have I asked her. I’ve texted her, she’s messaged me back, and we’ve spoken a few times, but neither one of us has initiated much substantial conversation. I don’t know what to say to her, and maybe I’m a little bit afraid she’ll say something I don’t want to hear. I know this was never supposed to be permanent, but I can’t seem to let it go. I don’t want to let it go. This is a new feeling for me, and I’m in uncharted waters, but I have this spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she and I will work out.

“You gonna wait it out?” Bryan asks as we stand near the doors. It’s funny, because my mind immediately drifts to Camille. Am I waiting it out to see how she wants to proceed? That seems kind of dumb. I’ve always been a take-charge kind of guy, and waiting isn’t my forte.

Looking over at him, I see he’s watching me, knowing my mind has gone somewhere else. He quirks an eyebrow, and I chuckle.

“Nope, I’m going for it.” And I am. There’s nothing planned for this weekend, so it’s the perfect time for me to drive up and finally have that talk. She has to know by now; either she’s in or she’s out, and I’m ready to find out.

“All right. Be careful out there.” He slaps me on the shoulder and I take off.

One by one the raindrops start to fall, slicing through the air and landing on my overheated skin. I’ve been pushing myself harder and exhausting my muscles, trying to find a way to not be consumed by her, but nothing is working. Jack has given me a few strange looks, and the guys are steering clear. They all think I’m surly because she’s back in Savannah and I’m here, and that is part of it, but it’s not that. It’s that she’s everywhere. Her coffee creamer is in my refrigerator, there’s a book she left on the end table, and I even found a pair of her socks on the patio. There are little things all over that I can’t escape. Even my clothes smell like her because she changed the dryer sheets.

Then again, I’m not trying to eliminate her either. I haven’t moved any of her stuff or thrown one thing away. I like them there mixing and mingling with mine. I want them there.

It’s time I tell her as much.

The speed of the rain quickly escalates and I drop my head as I move through the parking lot. Heat from the asphalt swirls around my legs as I weave in and out between the rows. My shoulders are getting damp and my hair is already wet, but the rain fuels me. Technically I don’t even need to wait until this weekend. There’s nothing really keeping me here, and the more I think about it, the more excited I get to see her. Suddenly, I can’t wait to get home to pack, and I pick up my speed. I came in later this morning, which only left the spots toward the back open, and halfway there, I stop short as someone steps in my way and stands right in front of me.

“Patrick.” His name hisses through my teeth.

What the hell is he doing here?

Is he following me?

Tension starts in my toes and climbs straight up my body. The rain, the parking lot, everything around us disappears, and I have to subdue my immediate reaction of fight or flight, because I want to kick this guy’s ass. I’m so focused on him and the rage pumping into my muscles I forget where we are.

“Do you have a death wish?” I ask him, blinking as I try to clear the haze of red between him and me.