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Claire isn’t the problem. It’s me.
I comb my fingers through my hair and grip the strands on the nape of my neck.
“I’m sorry, Claire. I wasn’t avoiding you. I swear. I just…” I draw a breath. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.”
“And?”
“You look very different,” I tell her honestly.
For a moment, Claire falls silent. Then she nods slowly.
“You mean because I don’t have my braces anymore?” She points to her teeth. “Or is it because of all this makeup that I know how to wear now?”
I let out a breath of relief and smile because she doesn’t sound pissed anymore.
“And because you’re wearing heels.” I glance at her feet. “You used to hate them.”
Claire shrugs. “Well, I still hate blueberries.”
I chuckle because I remember the face she used to make when Joel would try to force her to eat some.
“And I still save the lime-flavored Skittles for last because they’re my favorite. And I still suck at chess. I’m still the girl you taught how to ride a bike and who listened to you play guitar. I’m still the girl you used to help with math homework and the one who used to sulk when she lost at soccer. I’m just… all grown up now.”
Yes, she is, I agree as my gaze wanders to that tear-shaped opening in front of her dress where I can catch a glimpse of just a bit of her cleavage. I quickly pull my eyes away.
“So there’s no need for you to treat me like a stranger, Ryker,” Claire tells me.
I nod. “Yeah. I was a jerk.”
She chuckles. “Actually, you were acting more like a jealous boy—”
She stops abruptly like she’s just run out of air. I, too, find my breath cut off as my chest feels like it’s imploding from the impact of what Claire was about to say—and realizing she’s right.
I was acting like a jealous boyfriend.
And all of a sudden, everything makes sense. And then it doesn’t.
“Claire, I…”
In my haste to clear things up, I bump into the table against the wall. The crystal goblet on it topples over, hitting the candy bowl beside it. It cracks and starts to roll over the edge. Claire lunges forward to save the goblet but it slips through her fingers and shatters on the floor into a hundred pieces.
Fuck.
I stand still, staring at the mess as my thoughts race to come up with my next move. Then from the corner of my eye, I see red.
Blood.
Somehow, in her attempt to keep the goblet from falling, Claire cut a finger. And she hasn’t even realized it yet.
I quickly pull my handkerchief out of my pocket and wrap it around her finger. Only then does she notice the wound.
“Ow,” she complains as she winces.
“You’ll be fine,” I tell her. “We…”
Just then, the door opens. Joel comes in.
“There you are. I was starting to think—”
He stops as he sees my bloodstained handkerchief. Then he comes running.
“What the hell?”
“It’s fine, Joel,” I tell him before he starts to panic. “It’s just a cut.”
“I’m fine,” Claire reiterates.
Still, he insists on seeing her hand. “Let me see. Oh, shit.”
I move away to let him take over applying pressure to the wound. Joel is Claire’s brother. He’s the one who’s supposed to be taking care of her. I’m not needed here.
“I’ll go get the first aid kit,” I say before leaving the room.
Out in the hall, I pause just for a moment to take a breath. It seems like so much happened in the past minute. One moment Claire and I were happily reminiscing and the next there’s this cloud hanging over us. And then the goblet fell and Claire cut her finger. Then Joel came.
I glance back towards the room. I can’t see Claire from this angle but I can see Joel clearly. I can see the concern on his pale face.
He loves Claire. He really does. He always has and always will. Which is why he isn’t going to let just any man have her, not even me, his best friend. Maybe least of all, me. After all, he did warn me once that I shouldn’t get any ideas about his little sister.
And still, I did. I betrayed him. But no more. I did have an idea, but I’m getting rid of that now and I’m never thinking of it again. Because Joel is my best friend and Claire is his little sister.
Grown-up or not, Claire will always be my best friend’s little sister, which means I can never lay a finger on her.
Not in a million years.Chapter OneClaire
Seven years later…
I recognize Ryker as soon as I enter the bar.
He looks just like he did in the last photo of him I saw online. Not that I’m stalking him. The article about Hawthorne Holdings acquiring some bigshot Swiss company just popped up in my news feed.
