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“Apologize to her, or I’m going to rearrange your face. You look like you could use a nose job anyway.” Ava cracks her knuckles and I swear to god right then she’s my superhero. I don’t need anyone to stick up for me but the fact that she is, without fully knowing me tells me the kind of person she is.
“What did you say to me?” Sarah’s eyes bulge out of her head. Obviously no one ever talked to her like that before.
“You heard me. Apologize to her.” Ava takes a step forward and I realize she is actually considering fighting her. She is not bluffing. Panic rises inside of me.
Suddenly I’m frazzled and before I can reach out to Ava to stop her, she’s on her, bouncing with the finesse of a puma.
People circle around us, chanting “catfight, catfight, catfight.” I stagger backward, watching with shock as Ava lands a punch square on Sarah’s nose. Hoots and hollers fill the air as they fall to the ground Ava on top then Sarah, and then back again. I’m afraid but also amazed that she actually just punched her. No one has ever stuck up for me like that before.
“Whoa, what the fuck is going on?” A deep voice that ripples through my bones meets my ears and I turned just in time to see Vance stalking down the hall and past me to get to Ava. Clark only a foot behind him, his eyes roam over me, murderous rage forming in those hazel depths of his as he zeros in on the bright red stain on the front of my cream-colored blouse.
“What the hell happened?” Clark barks, the depth of his voice reaching deep inside me and wrapping around my heart.
Sheltered by Clark’s body, I don’t get to see what happens next. Instead, with his arms wrapped around me, he moves us away from the crowd, around a corner and through a door. I know we’re outside because of the cool air that caresses my sun-kissed cheeks.
My chest is heaving, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Any other time I would’ve been scared out of my mind, but I’m not, and it surprised the hell out of me.
Pressed against the side of the house, Clark releases me his eyes raking down over the front of my blouse. Through the dim lighting and the high hanging moon in the sky, I can see the clenching of his jaw, the barely restrained anger below the surface.
“She’s lucky I don’t hit women, because if she was a guy, I’d have already shoved my fucking fist down her throat.”
“It’s just a shirt, it’s okay,” I assure him, placing a hand against his chest. I can feel the heat rippling beneath my palm, the heavy beat thud of his heartbeat there too.
“It’s not okay…” He growls. “I’ve never regretted screwing around with someone as much as I do her. If I had known I’d meet you, I never would’ve touched any of those chicks.” Disappointment hangs between us.
“Shh, it’s okay, Clark. I’ve dealt with mean girls for a long time now. A little drink spilling and word slinging is something I can handle.” Worse things have happened to me. Literally. This is nothing.
Shaking his head, he leans down, his eyes peering into mine. I want to drown in their depths, let them wash away all my misery, my fear, and pain. Those golden orbs flick down to my mouth. Is he going to kiss me? I really hope so. A thin sheet of perspiration coats my palms. The pulse in my throat throbs, filling my ears with nothing but the sound of my thundering heartbeat. Licking my lips, I prepare myself for a kiss. I want his lips, need them. Clark is my kryptonite, the one person that sees me for me, sees beyond the crippling anxiety, the inky fear that claims me.
“I want to kiss you, Em, can I kiss you?” Clark whispered, his voice hoarse, clogged with emotions that I can’t decipher in that moment.
“Yes, please…” I reply, the muscles in my belly tightening, twisting, and knotting.
A soft smile ghosts his lips and then he’s descending on me. I let my eyes drift closed, wanting to absorb the kiss for all it’s worth, but his lips never touch mine. Instead, I feel his entire body pressing against mine, nearly crushing me against the side of the house if it weren’t for his strong forearms braced beside my head.
“What the fuck?” he growls as he twists around, a scowl forming. Moving I peek around Clark and spot a guy that I’ve never seen or met before. He’s about the same height as Clark but isn’t nearly as muscled.
“Can I help you?” Clark grits out. The guy smirks, but his eyes don’t match that smirk. They’re glassed, and brimming with sadness, anger.
