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“Morning, Julie,” I toss over my shoulder. “Just going to see Claire.”
“Um, right, but she’s not feeling well today, so, she asked for privacy. I can tell her you’re here and see if she—”
I slice my hand through the air. “No thanks. She’s expecting me.” I fucking know she is.
I burst through her office door without knocking and Charlee’s head shoots up from her spot on the couch. Her jaw drops, eyes darting to Claire, who’s much slower to move. Her elbows are up on the desk, face buried in her hands. She looks about as wrecked as I feel.
“Morning, Charlee.” I nod in her direction. That gets Claire moving. Her head snaps up in my direction and she quickly swipes at her eyes before pasting on an impenetrable mask. “Mind if I have a few minutes alone with Claire?” Holding the door open, I sweep my arm out in front of me.
Charlee scrambles to her feet, meeting me at the door. She opens her mouth as if to say something but then shuts it and frowns. She glances back at Claire, who’s shaking her head, her green eyes huge, scared, begging.
“Charlee, no. You don’t have to—”
“Charlee, I need a few minutes, please.”
Her eyes bounce between us. “Uh…I’ll just be outside, Claire, okay? Just right outside the door.” The look she gives me lets me know that she’ll be listening and that she won’t hesitate to jump in if she thinks she needs to.
“Charlee, no.” Claire stands and takes a step toward us but then seems to reconsider. She doesn’t want to come near me. “You-you should go, Avery. I’m busy. I can’t talk right now.”
“You can and you will.” I look at Charlee and shift my gaze to the door. “Charlee, please.”
She chews the inside of her cheek like she’s really not sure what to do, who to give in to. Then she nods. “Right outside,” she reminds us both, pointing to the door. She gives me one last assessing survey, and her eyes flicker, softening.
I’m sure there’s nobody who knows Claire better than Charlee does, which is probably the only reason she’s agreeing to leave right now. Because as much as she loves her, Charlee knows that Claire isn’t always right.
I shut the door behind her, flipping the lock. Claire immediately cowers into the corner.
“Why did you lock it? You don’t need to lock it. Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here.” Her hands fumble at her stomach, the one I spent hours kissing on last night, and her gaze moves around the room, landing anywhere but on me.
I’m so torn right now. Looking at Claire in this moment, how obviously scared she is, it fucks with my head. I don’t want to hurt her, and I sure as hell don’t want her to be frightened of me. But this shit can’t go on anymore. It needs to end, and the only way that’s going to happen is with a real conversation. My jaw ticks with anger on its own accord, probably because Claire intends on ending this without a real conversation.
Hands in my pockets, I take a few calculated steps toward her. “Did you seriously leave me in the middle of the night again?”
“I-I…” She takes a deep, steadying breath and points that stubborn nose at the ceiling. “You got what you wanted. It was time for me to leave.”
“Got what I wanted? What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t get what I wanted at all, or I would have woken up with you still in my arms this morning.”
Her eyes land on me, flashing with rage, nostrils flaring. “So you could have me again? The last two nights weren’t enough for you? Didn’t have your fill of me yet?” Her shoulders tense and she takes a step toward me. “Because it’s you who gets to decide when you’re sick of me, right? Wanted to use me a few more times before you tossed me out?”
“You can’t be serious, Claire. What are you saying right now?”
I cross the room to her in three strides, expecting her to back off, but she just puffs her chest out, determined to stand her ground, even if it shakes. It’s one of the things I love about her—her ferocity, feistiness, tenacity. But right now, I hate it, because it’s exactly what’s keeping us apart.
“You heard me. You got what you wanted, what I’ve been denying you all this time. You finally fucked me. Now the chase is over.” She waves one loopy hand through the air. “You can go have video sex with your fuck buddy, or better yet, bring her to your next event, sneak off somewhere private, and remind her how divine that mouth of yours is. Shit, maybe she’s available tomorrow night.” She pins her arms across her chest, huffing every breath as if she’s just run a five-minute mile.
“Great, so you saw the message. Did you open it up and see the five times I turned her down before that? Or would you like to text her now and ask her about the ten-minute phone call we just had where I politely told her to fuck off because I was seeing someone?”
Her eyes widen in surprise, arms falling to her sides. She blinks rapidly, looking a little lost for words. Finally, she stutters out, “We’re not…we’re not together.”
My brows jump. “We’re not?”
“N-no.” She looks like even she doesn’t know what the hell is going on.
“Like fucking hell, Claire. What was that on Saturday, you, me and Vivi? What were the last two nights?” I refuse to believe that time together meant nothing to her, and she’s ridiculous if she’s trying to convince herself of that. Truly, if it meant nothing to her, she wouldn’t give two shits about Sam.
“What was it? It was a mistake, that’s what it was. It was you pushing your way into my life where you don’t belong, all in the name of fucking me.” She shoves an angry finger into my chest.
With a growl, I grab her by the shoulders and back her up against the wall. “It has never been just about fucking you since the night I put you in that cab and sent you home.”
