Chapter 57 – Thomas
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Thomas
I grab the papers from her hand and toss them aside. She’s crazy. I hate how much I want to be with her, no matter how much she scares me. But I just stand there and let her fight me until she’s out of breath.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” I ask her with a low voice, waiting for Clover to explain why she walked in here with so much bloody anger.
“You’re what’s wrong!” Clover screams.
Fuck’s sake. Seriously?
“What did I do?”
“You snuck into my room for one thing,” Clover says, throwing a punch at my stomach. I grunt, but her punch doesn’t even hurt.
“That’s like… totally our thing though.”
Clover puts her hands on her hips and her cute little nostrils flare out.
“I hate you.”
“Join the club. Why are you all pissed? I was just waiting to talk. I know you went out with your mum.”
“Yeah, I did. It was great.”
Clearly, it wasn’t. Her penchant for violence appears to have increased significantly. I take the stack of papers up and Clover lunges at me.
“Give me those!”
“I’m reading them.”
“I can see that, you dick!” she yells while lunging for the stack. No luck. I’m tall enough that I can keep anything out of Clover’s hands if I want to. She ought to recognize that.
It’s a contract. On the night of her dance recital, Clover’s mum gave her a contract.
“This is awful.”
Clover folds her arms as I set the contracts on her desk.
“You don’t have to sign those,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes at me like I couldn’t possibly understand her life.
“If I want a damn place to rest my head I do.”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” I tell her honestly.
Yes, there’s a time to talk to Clover about her parents and her family, but it isn’t now.
I’m waiting in her bedroom for a reason.
I couldn’t help myself after watching her tonight.
I can’t let myself hurt her anymore, but I can’t keep away from her either.
I can’t let Clover keep running. I have to show her how I feel and show her that she doesn’t have to fear anything. I’m not going to leave her.
“Good. Neither do I.”
“You were beautiful tonight,” I tell her honestly, because that’s what I’d much rather prefer talking about.
Her face softens for one rare moment and she unfolds her arms. Still, Clover can’t look at me, or she won’t. I can’t tell which.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
“Not just beautiful, you’re really talented. I can tell you love it.”
Her body moves in this fucking perfect way.
I’ve never met a girl who can move like that.
I dunno much about dance, but I’ll tell you, this was nothing like ballet.
She was… sexy. She lost herself in the movements and it was like for a moment, she wasn’t all self-conscious and angry.
She was just… herself. I like when she’s herself..
“I do,” she says. “Dance was always my freedom.”
I can’t stop blathering on like the awkward teenage boy I was before the muscles. I know she thinks I’m handsome and fuck’s sake, I like her, but she’s the sort of pretty that’s a little bit scary.
“You move like a goddess.”
“Now you’re laying it on thick,” she replies sternly and my heart nearly sinks, but I can tell from the smirk on her face that she appreciates the compliment.
Catching herself, her brow furrows again. “Did you sneak in here to tell me I dance like a goddess?”
“No. I brought you something.”
She bites her lower lip and glances at the dead sunflowers still sitting in a vase on her dresser. I tell myself she can’t bear to throw them away but really, she’s probably just forgotten them.
I reach into my pocket for the gift. I hope she likes it. Clover takes the small box from me, a suspicious look still on her face. She raises an eyebrow and opens it.
“Thomas!”
“Did I do something wrong again?” I grumble.
“No. It’s just… really fucking pretty.”
She slowly removes the solid gold bracelet with her name plate on it.
Clover. Flanking her name are two four-leaf clovers made out of diamonds and the entire piece I had custom done, showing the jeweler I go to when I get stuff for mum some of Clover’s outfits so the bracelet matches her whole hip-hop vibe.
She really pulls it off, honestly. I like her clothes.
She’s different from other girls and in my world, you don’t get a lot of different. It’s alluring.
Her angry look fades away as she lifts it to her bedroom light and grins. It’s broad. Genuine. Yes… I haven’t fucked it for once.
“You worked really hard and I wanted you to have something special tonight.”
“It’s beautiful,” Clover whispers. I love listening to her smoky voice get all soft.
“So are you.”
She tucks the bracelet back into the box and then shuts it, running her tongue over her lower lip and furrowing her brow in deep consideration.
“I don’t know if I can accept this.”
“Why not?”
“Because… you’re going to want… I can’t have sex with you because you gave me a bracelet.”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
Clover stares at me like I’m the stupid one. Then she rolls her eyes, which she normally does when she wants me to know that she thinks I’m a bloody idiot. I’m not letting her get away with pushing me this time. No way.
“I didn’t give this to you so you’d fuck me,” I tell her. “I like you, Clover. I want you to be my girlfriend. Someday. After my bruises heal.”
Naturally, she pushes against me.
“We’re going to date for like a week and then spend the holiday halfway across the world from each other. How does that make sense?”
“Nothing about you makes sense,” I reply.
Clover rolls her eyes. “Stop it.”
“Hasn’t anyone ever liked you before? Hasn’t any guy tried to court you? I’m not giving you the bracelet for sex. I’m impressing you.”
Clover puts the box on her desk. At least she’s keeping it.
“Impressing me?”
“Yes,” I snap. “That’s what men do when they like a girl. Hasn’t any guy ever tried to work for you?”
I don’t mean for it to sound so cruel and I know I shouldn’t let her get under my skin. That’s what she wants – she wants me to prove that I’m just a monster who wants to get into her pants. I’m not just that. I also care. Clover’s still glaring when she responds.
“No,” she sighs. “They haven’t. Guys want one thing.”
Her eyes flicker to mine and I can’t deny I want that “one thing”.
It’s sex. It’s beautiful. It’s connection.
It’s powerful enough to bring people who don’t belong together into its vortex of intimacy and passion, but sex can rip people apart just as easily.
Sex can hurt. Sex can heal. Of course I want to have sex with her… but it’s not everything.
“Sure,” I murmur. “We do. But this guy’s willing to wait. He’s willing to court you.”
I take her hand and press it to my lips. I sense the softness making her deeply uncomfortable, so I kiss her again and then let her drop her hand away. Clover moves closer to me once I let her go. I have to let her come to me.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means… I like your personality. I want to be friends and then something more.”
Clover grins again. “What do you like about my personality? I’m always hitting you.”
“I know,” I tell her, moving one of her pretty dreadlocks behind her ears. “You give me shit, but you’re clever and funny and when I watch you dance, I think… I could look at this for hours.”
“Yes, Thomas. Gyrating hips makes you horny. Congratulations.”
I chuckle. “See? Funny. It’s not just about the hips, it’s who they belong to.”
I put my hands on her hips and she doesn’t push me off. “Are you going to make me beg for a kiss?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Because I don’t really believe that you want me for more than a night. I just… I can’t believe that, you know?”
“Why not, Clover? Why is it so fucking hard to believe that I care about you?”
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