Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Claire
I hurry across the street to where I left my car yesterday morning. It feels like a year ago. Time seems to be stretching out, a day with Bryce lasting forever. It doesn’t matter that I only met him just over a week ago. I feel as though I’ve always known him.
My eyes prickle with tears again at how kind he was, how gentle, when we stopped at the scene of my parents’ accident. Simon always refused to go there with me, telling me it was morbid. It’s one of the things I can never forgive him for.
I fumble in my bag for my car keys. My phone buzzes and I pick it up without thinking, my mind still on Bryce and the incredible night we spent together. Now I’m about to take that final step with him. I cannot wait, already getting damp at the thought.
But when I look at the screen I go cold.
I’m sorry Claire
I didn’t mean to upset you
I just can’t wait for you to ditch that guy and come back to me
Fuck. Him.
Before I can think too much about it, I dial the number attached to the text messages. I don’t know if Simon will answer, or what I’m expecting, really. He must have taken out shares in burner phones at this point.
He answers. “Hello? Claire, is that you?”
The hope in his voice almost undoes me. I freeze, unsure what to say. Then I remember the card, the dead spider. All the other awful things he’s done to me.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Oh my god, I—”
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up and listen to me, because I want to make sure you hear this. I’m with someone else now. I don’t love you. I’m not coming back to you, ever. And if you don’t stop harassing me, I will get the police involved.”
There’s silence, and I wonder whether he’s hung up.
“Is that right?” His voice has changed, become flat and cold. “Does he give you pleasure, like I did? Do you share his bed, like you did mine? You told me you loved me, Claire.”
“I was wrong,” I say, just as flat, just as emotionless. My legs are trembling, though, and I have to lean on my car. “And no, I don’t share his bed. He comes in mine. And I mean that in every possible way.”
“So you’re fucking him, then? After you promised me?”
“I promised you nothing.”
“You are fucking him.” His voice breaks. “I’ve been waiting for you. I haven’t even looked at another girl—”
“Well, maybe you should.”
“You’re mine!” He’s shouting now. Tears come to my eyes.
“I’m not!” I scream back. “So leave me alone!” I hang up the phone before he can say anything else.
My legs buckle under me and I crouch down, sobbing, my hands over my face.
It takes me a few moments to get back under control, wiping my eyes.
Even though I want to run to Bryce, I don’t want him to see me like this.
I can take care of myself, and I can take care of this.
I don’t want to pull Bryce into any more of my shit.
Sniffing, I get in my car. I check my reflection in the mirror, wiping the last bits of tell-tale moisture from my lashes, biting my lips, pinching colour back into my cheeks.
I’m not kidding about going to the police if Simon doesn’t stop.
I’ve had enough. Not that I know whether or not they can do anything to help, but it feels like some sort of a step in the right direction.
There’s a knock on my car window and I jump. “Shit!”
It’s Bryce, thank god. I almost tumble out of the car door, into his arms. “Hey,” I say, half-laughing, half-crying. I’m beyond glad to see him. His car is pulled up next to mine; I didn’t even notice him arriving. I try to calm down, but he sees right through me.
“What’s wrong?” He holds me back from him, his green gaze roving over my face.
“Nothing.” I try to smile, but it comes out as some sort of twisted grimace.
“Don’t bullshit me, Claire. What’s happened?”
“Simon.” I tell him about the phone call, and his expression gets darker.
“I will end that guy if I see him,” he growls.
“Just leave it, please. I can handle things.”
“How? By telling him we’re fucking? Why not just pour petrol on him and chuck a lit match his way? You need to be careful, Claire. I’ve seen what guys like him can do.” His mouth thins and he looks away, frowning.
“I will be careful,” I say, starting to worry. “And I won’t tell him we’re … doing anything else.”
He half-smiles, then. “It’s not really any of his business, is it?”
“No.” I pull him closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. He leans against me, pressing me against the car. He touches my face, his lush mouth relaxing, his green eyes soft. He’s so beautiful.
“Besides,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. “We’re not fucking yet.”
“Hmm, I know.” I return his kiss, my heart pounding at his casual use of the word “yet.” “We really need to sort that out soon. I don’t like telling fibs, not even to him.”
“We are having sex, though.” His lips travel downwards, his voice rumbling against my throat.
“Yes, but not totally.” I gasp as his hand comes to my breast, his thumb smoothing across the nipple. “Not that anyone will believe that. After all,” I manage to add, “I am supposed to be your girlfriend. And everyone knows what a sex god you are.”
“Sex god?” He pulls back, laughing. The little line between his brows smooths out.
“Oh yes. It’s what my friend Joss says, anyhow.”
“Is it now?” His hips push into mine, and I can feel he’s getting hard again. “Well,” he runs the tip of his tongue up the side of my neck, “I’d hate to prove her wrong.”
“We’d better go back to my place, then.”
His hand glides lower, dipping under my skirt. His fingers slide between my legs, caressing me over my lace thong. “Hmm,” he says. “I think we should.” He drops a kiss on my lips, then pulls back from me completely, leaving me a panting mess against the side of my car.
“You know what?” I say, trying to pull myself together. “You, Bryce Maylands, are not a sex god.”
“What am I, then?” He’s trying to hold back his laughter.
I’m giggling too. “You’re a tease.”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He winks at me. “And I believe we have an appointment with your dining table?” He gets in his car, winding down the window and leaning out. “I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”
“Ten minutes?”
“Unless you think you’ll need longer?” His tone is all innocence, but his green eyes are starting to smoulder.
I hurriedly get in my car, fumbling with the ignition key before I can get it to start.
I pull out, ignoring his cheery wave, giggling as I pull out onto the main road and head back towards my house.
It’s amazing how he affects me, how he lifts my mood.
A few minutes ago I was screaming at Simon.
Now I’m driving towards my house, laughter bubbling in my chest, slick heat between my thighs. And it’s all because of him.
I’m falling for this boy.
Bryce
I’m fucking furious. Not with Claire, but with Simon.
I hope I don’t run into him anytime soon, because I’m not sure what I’ll do to him if I see him.
I knew Claire was upset as soon as I saw her, no matter how she tried to hide it.
I wish I knew where the snivelling dickhead lived, so I could go and punch a hole through his front door.
But that won’t help Claire at all. I think she needs to go to the police about it, and if she wants to do that, I’ll support her any way I can.
So I give her a ten-minute start because it’ll give me time to sort my head out.
I don’t want to go to her angry. I don’t want to go to her in any way apart from totally focused on her and her pleasure.
Just the thought of her soft curves, of her calm presence, is enough to lift my mood.
And the fact that she trusts me enough to take this step with me.
I also need to call Mum. Just to check in, and also to let her know I’ll be bringing Claire down to see her.
I’m torn, wondering whether I should go sooner, maybe tonight.
Fuck, though. It’s not like Mum and Millie don’t have other people to help.
Millie has a great recovery sponsor, as well as a counsellor and supportive friends.
Mum has her sister and her own group of friends.
But I’m family. The man of the house – if you believe in that kind of shit – since Dad died. At the very least I should be taking some sort of responsibility.
I scroll through my phone and dial. It rings through to the message bank, and I hear Mum’s cheery voice. I leave a message.
“Mum, it’s Bryce. Just wanted to check in.
Hope it’s all okay. I’ll come up the day after tomorrow, if you need me there.
I’m also bringing Claire to meet you and Mil.
Love you.” Frustrated, I hang up and stare at my phone, not sure what to do.
I’m about to start the car when my phone rings. But it’s not mum, it’s Jeff. I answer.
“Hey man.”
“Bryce! How are things? Listen, we’ve been having some great engagement on the Ocean’s Curl stuff with you and Claire. Ocean’s Curl are really happy; in fact, they want you both at their Christmas party in Melbourne next week; are you up for it?”
That’s Jeff. No bullshit small talk, just straight in with the facts.
“And I’ve had a couple more potential sponsorship deals come through, so we need to catch up and talk about that. You getting a girlfriend, even if she isn’t real, is good for business.”
“Yeah, well, about that—”
“Fucking hell, Bryce. Have you screwed this up already?” Jeff’s tone changes from breezy businessman to the friend I know.
I grin. “No. At least, I don’t think I have. It’s more that … we’re making it real now.”
There’s a moment of silence. “What? You’re fucking her already? Honestly, Bryce, is there anyone who won’t drop their knickers for you?”
“Don’t say that.” I snap it out, stung.
More silence. “Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings?” Jeff now sounds partway between incredulous and delighted.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. Listen, I need to get going. And I’ll check with Claire about coming to your Melbourne thing.”
“How are things with your family?”
I pause. “It’s complicated. I think everything is all right, but I’m going up to see them again the day after tomorrow. Listen, I really do need to get going now, though.”
“All right, mate, take care of yourself. I’m here if you need me.”
I hang up and start the drive back to Claire’s place, my head spinning. Mum, Millie, the sponsorship stuff, Simon, all going around in my head like some sort of fucked-up soup. But as I near her driveway, it all coalesces into one thing. Claire.
She feels like a lodestone, like a beacon calling me home.
Still, I take a moment when I get out of the car to breathe in the silence and the scent of eucalyptus, get my head into the right space.
The big door at the back of the house is ajar, and I push it open, heading inside.
Then I stop dead, all thoughts of Jeff, my family, everything else in the world leaving my head.
Claire is perched on one end of the long table, leaning back on her hands, wearing just a pink lacy push-up bra and matching thong.
Holy fuck. I think my dick just tried to poke a hole through my trousers.
She licks her lips, tossing her hair, but I can hear a tremor in her voice when she speaks.
“This is how you wanted me, isn’t it?”
I pull my shirt over my head, already undoing my cargo trousers as I head over to her. I run my hand up her stomach, sweep it across her silk-smooth breasts, taking a moment to appreciate my good fortune. Then I lean in and kiss her.
“Yeah,” I say. “It is.”