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“Open your eyes, Clover.”
At the use of that name, they pop open.
“Clover?”
“Yes, the birthmark on your face…surely I’m not the first person to say that. It’s so fucking pretty, and the way this trail of freckles shoots out from it, like a stem of stars.”
I’m too tongue-tied to answer. Yes, everyone noticed. But when my classmates called me Clover it hadn’t been because they thought it was pretty. I run my fingers along the spot on my face I’ve treated like a blemish.
“You were born with your own good luck charm.”
In the beam of light he’s standing under his eyes remind me of the sage leaves that grows in the garden.
I wonder what shade they’ll be in the early morning light. “Will you stay with me tonight?” I ask it before I know I’m going to. Before I have a chance to be embarrassed or try to take it back, He lifts my hand in his to his lips.
I hold my breath as he trails kisses up my arm and nips the tender skin in the crook of my arm. He looks up at me through his thick lashes. “Well now that I’ve kissed a girl with the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, I’m dying to see how the rest of her tastes. So yes, Beth, I’ll stay the night.”
I flush at the wicked, carnal smile that lifts his soft lips. “I’ve never…done more than this,” I confess.
His eyebrows shoot up and a huge grin lights up his face. “Well, lucky me.” A piece of my heart springs open and light and warmth flood my chest because I can tell he really thinks he’s lucky. He’s looking at me like I’m magic.
“Can we go back upstairs?” he asks, and I’m powerless to do anything but nod.
Carter
Meant To Be
Three months later
I live by the motto, Tell the truth and shame the devil. But as I make my way up the stairs to Beth’s house, I know that even though I haven’t lied to her outright, I’ve certainly done so by omission. And, that if I could have kept it from her, I wouldn’t have told her.
But, my hand has been forced and I owe her honesty. I’m hoping she’ll understand and forgive me.
I let myself into the house and follow the thrum of music to the studio.
I normally race down this corridor but today, unfamiliar uncertainty and doubt roil in my gut, and I take my time and think about what I’m going to say.
The disarming unpredictability that makes her so exciting worked to my disadvantage when I tried to anticipate how this conversation is going to play out.
But, this whole summer has been a surprise.
After a year of nearly incessant travel, no privacy, and constant scrutiny, I was desperate to be alone. So, I talked them into letting me come down to the lake house my father owns, but never uses, intent on shutting out the rest of the world.
Then, I met Beth.
At best, I thought, she’d be one last summer fling before my whole life changes. But I wasn’t prepared for the compelling, heart pounding reality of Beth Mortimer.
The unbridled whimsy and unfettered joy that punctuates everything she does has been like taking a high-pressure wash to the grime left on my soul by the cynical, contrived, and carefully managed life I’ve lived for the past couple of years.
My armor of shallow charm, dry wit, and calculated seduction was no match for the promise of adventure and understanding that lived in her lavishly expressive, man-slaying eyes.
She saw through my façade and gave me what I needed —acceptance, understanding, and excitement. She has been so many things to me this summer—antagonist, muse, lover, cheerleader.
After three months of letting my guard down in a way I never have before, she knows me better than anyone ever has. And what I know about her made me feel like I knew her just as well.
Roberta Flack is her favorite singer. Blue is her favorite color. Her first heartbreak was at age six—same as mine—when her dog Teddy got hit by a car and died. She likes her eggs fried so hard they’re crispy, and she can’t drink anything but piping hot water in the morning. I know that the inside of her right knee is ticklish and sucking her nipples is enough to make her come. What more did I need to know about a person?
It was’t until this morning when she met my family for the first time, that the bubble of stolen time, burst.
