20. Claire
20
CLAIRE
I can’t quite determine how I feel today. One moment, I’m floating on a cloud, the next, I am flushing whenever anyone seems to look at me for longer than a second. Did they see me last night? Were they hidden under a mask? And I groan, or stamp my foot, when lurid images assault my mind. Telling myself to pull myself together every fifteen minutes achieves very little.
On the whole, everything is fine. More than fine. I’m enrolled again. It’s as if Sunday didn’t happen. That’s what I have to tell myself. It never happened. If only my brain would get the memo. Is there a way to remove some memories from someone’s brain? Asking for a friend.
“Hey!” Lily calls from her table at the cafe on the ground floor of the library, beaming as she waves.
She’s at a table with six seats, two of them occupied by two strangers. The guy has bad acne, large glasses, and a frame similar to mine, thin and rather small for a boy. I would have guessed he was sixteen, at a push. The girl is a brunette with the most startling pale jade eyes I’ve ever seen. Dressed entirely in black, her hair is cut in a bob that reminds me of a fashion model, but she slouches, looking down, like the last thing she wants is to get noticed.
Good luck with that . That girl is not shaped to be a wallflower.
“Hey, Claire! This is Liv and Jack.”
I wave back. “Hi.”
“So, did everything get sorted?” she asks eagerly, and I nod.
“I’m officially re-enrolled.” I can’t help my grin. “I just got my schedule. I managed to squeeze in a drawing class, too, for fun.”
“Oh, what happened?” Liv asked.
I’m relieved Lily finds the right words before I can come up with anything. “An admin snafu. She thought her enrollment got cancelled last minute.”
“Oh my god!” Liv gapes at me, those beautiful eyes terrified. “I can’t imagine the stress. Even thinking about it is triggering my anxiety.”
“Olivia,” Jack says, rolling his eyes, “a broken mirror triggers your anxiety.”
“Well, they’re unlucky,” she states defiantly.
“And water is wet. Not to mention the sky’s blue,” Lily teases.
Liv doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m a bit of a scaredy-cat,” she tells me with an indifferent shrug.
“A bit?” Jack echoes.
I’m not judging. After yesterday, it wouldn’t take much to turn me into one either.
“What’s good here?” I ask, dropping my satchel on one of the empty seats, before rifling through it to get my wallet.
“Everything. It’s also ridiculously cheap,” Liv tells me.
“Seriously?”
I didn’t think cheap was a word I’d hear in Thorn Falls.
“The cafe’s actually a nonprofit,” Lily tells us. “The proceeds go toward some of the scholarships they offer here.”
“Oh, wow, I didn’t know that!” Jack stands. “This is officially my cue to get a second blueberry muffin.”
We walk together toward the short line of students waiting to order. “So, what are you studying?” he asks me.
“Accounting. You?”
Before he says anything, I think he’s in STEM, because, well, he kinda looks like the caricature, doesn’t he?
“STEM, sophomore year. I’m not sure what I’ll specialize in yet. There’s just so many options.”
Smiling to myself, I look at the choice of snacks and immediately start drooling. God, Liv wasn’t kidding.
There are a number of stuffed croissants, toasties, and salads, and another shelf with muffins, brownies, doughnuts, and cakes, all of which seem freshly made and delicious.
I spot one elaborate decorated pie behind the counter, on a cake stand under a transparent cloche.
That. I want that.
Jack orders his muffin with a pink haired waitress, and asks me what I’d like.
“Oh, I can get my own, I haven’t decided yet,” I lie, not wanting to offend him.
He smiles. “No worries. The muffins are to die for.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” I assure him as he walks back to Liv and Lily.
Once he’s gone, the barista smirks at me. “Poor guy. A bit out of his weight class with you, huh?”
I flush. “Rather, exactly in my weight class.” I feel a little wicked immediately, so I explain, “But he wasn’t hitting on me, I think; just being friendly. The thing is, I don’t have much money, so I don’t like people buying things for me. I can’t really return the favor.”
“Relatable,” she assures me. “So, have you picked something yet?”
“How much is the gorgeous pie over there?” I ask, pointing to the complex piece of patisserie.
It’s so beautiful, it’s kind of a shame to eat it, but two slices have already been cut out of it, so I don’t feel too bad.
The guy behind me snorts. “More than you can afford, Barbie.”
“Hey! Rude,” the waitress snaps, before I can.
I glance back at him, and lose my ability to say anything anyway. Not only because he’s gorgeous—what is there in the water in this town? Guys did not look like this back home—but because he feels…dangerous. That’s the only word I can think of. A shiver travels up my spine as I look at him.
“Just for that, you can have a slice,” the waitress tells me.
The guy’s eyes narrow at her. “No.”
She crosses her arms in front of her, her ample chest rising up. “I made it. I pick who can eat it. Anything else, love?”
“That’s my pie ,” the guy practically growls.
“Nope. Today, it’s Barbie’s.”
I obviously walked into the middle of something, and I’m not sure how to extricate myself from it, until a chuckle makes me shiver again, for a very different reason.
My eyes immediately fly to the man strolling up to the counter, ignoring the three people in the queue behind the self-proclaimed pie owner.
“Darius,” the pie asshole greets him.
Of course they know each other. I assume everyone knows Keller, anyway.
“Markus,” he replies, his eyes remaining fixed on me. “You’ve officially met Claire?”
“Claire, huh?” He shrugs. “I prefer Barbie.”
I glare at him, although frankly, a minute ago, I wouldn’t have dared. But Darius’s presence shifts the dynamic a little. It’s not me against a dangerous-looking stranger with cold golden eyes anymore. I get the feeling Markus won’t strangle me for the offense of looking at him the wrong way with Keller here. Or having pie.
“This is Markus,” Keller tells me. “And this is his future wife, Daisy.”
The waitress snorts. “He wishes.”
Markus lifts his chin. “Yes, he does.”
Grinning, Daisy plates a slice of pie for me. “Did you want a drink?”
“Wait, you’re seriously giving her pie, Dez?” Keller marvels.
“Yes. Maybe Markus will learn a valuable lesson: I can give whatever I want to whomever I want.”
The look they exchange makes me want to run and hide. “I don’t need a drink.” It’s a lie; I’d die for a coffee. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, nothing. Pie’s not on the menu. It’s mine ,” she repeats, staring at her…something?
Someone, get me out of here.
“How about you, Keller?”
“If you give him some of my pie, I will leave your ass so red you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week,” Markus states.
Keller laughs. “Black coffee, please. And a caramel macchiato for Claire. Try not to terrify her so much she considers surviving without her midday caffeine fix next time, you psychos.”
I was about to leave with my slice of pie, but his response has me staring at him, positively red.
I knew he looked into me. He made that very apparent Saturday night. But he even worked out my coffee order, as well as my habit of ordering coffee around twelve? That’s…crazy. He’s crazy.
About you.
I tell the voice that added that to shut up. He’s crazy, full stop. I’m just the target he chose for the weekend. It’s likely going to be someone else next week. He didn’t even try to touch me this morning. He’s done. Right?
I return to Lily’s table, where her friends are all staring at me.
No one’s so much as said a word when Keller saunters his way to me, wordlessly sitting at one end of the table.
“I need to try some of that pie,” he tells me, sliding my coffee across the table until it’s in front of me. “Markus is ridiculously territorial over them, and I must know if they’re as good as they look.”
Lily stares at him. Jack stares at me. Liv stares at her nails.
“I don’t know, I feel like that other guy might murder me for sharing his pie.”
“He might murder you for eating his pie,” Markus himself assures me, as he sits at the other end of the table.
Again, Lily and her friends are astounded.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. The actual culprit will be the one to pay for it,” he says, glaring at the bubbly, pink-haired girl who smirks at him from behind the counter while serving an older woman—likely a teacher.
I would not want to be in Dez’s shoes right now. It’s wild to me that she’d push the buttons of a guy like that.
Is it?
My mind flies back to last night. To the jolt of electricity pressed right at my clit when I earned a punishment. At the time, it was overwhelming. So much so I screamed. I must have had tears in my eyes. Today, the only response is—embarrassingly—my thighs clenching, and my core heating at the memory.
Yes, it was a lot. It didn’t feel good…exactly. But it felt . Right there.
Maybe Dez likes earning punishments.
I cut a little piece of pie—I’m not that generous—and lift it to Keller’s mouth, before trying it myself. My eyes widen.
Oh, this is good. Like very, very good. There’s a layer of something creamy, but a bit solid, like creme patissiere, and then a fruit coulis of sort, tangy and fresh. Then, the slightest hint of chocolate, all with the most perfect crust.
“No wonder you want to marry her,” I tell Markus honestly.
“Right?” he smirks.
“If she keeps saying no, can I marry her?” I joke, a little unsure.
I feel like there’s a fifty percent chance the guy might flip on me. But he just laughs. “Your funeral, Barbie.”
“Seriously, she should be a pro. Is she studying culinary arts?”
“No, believe it or not. She just locks herself in the kitchen and tries stuff.” He stares at Dez like he wants to eat her up.
“I’d love to spy on her. I mean, I like to bake, but I’ve never even seen anything like this, outside of fancy cooking shows or Instagram pictures.”
“You bake?” Keller asks.
I lift an eyebrow. “Oh, you didn’t know?”
The corner of his mouth hikes up. “I didn’t, actually.”
It occurs to me the rest of the table is silent. I cut up the rest of my pie in four pieces, and eat one, before sliding it to Liv, Lily and Jack, who all take a bite, and moan in delight, just like I did.
I’m glad Markus doesn’t explode at my sharing the pie slice. In fact, he seems rather smug at all the delight. Why wouldn’t he? He snagged the genius who bakes him his own pies all the time. Lucky guy. Suddenly, he doesn’t seem all that crazy about wanting to keep them to himself.
“How are you so ripped?” Lily asks him. “If I had a baker like that in the house, I’d be the size of an elephant.”
“Oh, I work it off,” he announces, his tone highly suggestive in my opinion. Then, he glances at me. “You can, you know. Spy on her, that is. She lives in my house—wyvern. Pop by any morning around seven. That’s when she likes to bake. She doesn’t mind. She’s given lessons to a bunch of people.”
“Oh!” I blink. “I mean, can I?”
Somehow, I thought I wouldn’t be welcome again in the Wyvern House.
Markus shrugs. “Sure. Dez likes you. Hey, how did the chat with Dad go?” he asks Keller.
I blink. “You’re brothers?”
That would explain so much. They look nothing alike, Markus being tall dark and handsome, while Keller’s rocking the Apollo vibe, golden blond and sky-blue eyes. But they’re equally stunning. But my internet search didn’t mention another son for Arlo.
“Cousins,” Keller corrects.
“Sort of,” Markus responds, rolling his eyes. “His aunt’s married to my dad.”
Yep. There’s definitely something in the water, then.
“Your dad acted as expected,” Keller tells him. “I’m very satisfied with the result—though not everyone will be.”
Markus smirks knowingly, leaning in. “I knew you had a little beast in you, too. What’s it like to leave the moral high ground and join the rest of us?”
I don’t know what it’s about, but he’s baiting Keller.
The man at my left smiles. “A hell of a lot of fun.”
Somehow, I’m flushing. Nothing they’ve said indicates that they’re in any way referring to me, but the word “fun” on Keller’s lips calls to mind everything he did to me.
Fuck. I need to stay the hell away from him. But it doesn’t look like he intends to stay away from me .
“I guess I need an actual snack, since you’ve all had a piece of my pie,” I say, pouting at the empty plate in front of me.
Markus snorts, smugly eating the rest of his without offering anyone a bite.
“I got it.” Keller’s already on his feet. “What would you like?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I need to tell Dez how wonderful the pie was. I’ll get my own lunch.”
His eyes do the thing where they’re too intensely focused on mine. It’s hard to tell, as his expression doesn’t give much away, but it feels like a warning of sorts.
I ignore it, making my way to the counter again. There are only a couple of people waiting.
I tense as Keller falls into step next to me.
It’s one thing to speak to him with other people around, but when it’s just the two of us, it feels different.
Intimate?
Dangerous.
“How’s your grandma?” he asks me.
I blink. “Oh. I…” Biting my lower lip, I wonder how to voice the fact that I’ve actively avoided any calls or texts over the last thirty hours or so.
Because of him.
I clear my throat. “I haven’t had a chance to chat with her yet.”
“I’m sure she'd love to hear from you. She booked her surgery; it’s next Friday.”
So, he did keep his word.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. You paid for that, with interest, if I recall.”
Great, I’m vividly remembering how. With those lips and those fingers and?—
Jesus, what happened to me in the course of a single weekend?
Him. Darius Keller is what happened to me. And he’s still right next to me for some reason, like there’s nothing more natural in the world.
“You will also hear from my sister, Lisa. She’s hoping to get you to babysit Octavia some evenings, so she can extend her working hours. I gave her your number.”
He had it already?
A gentleman asks.
But if asking isn't getting me what I need, I'm fine with taking.
“I’ll answer her,” I say, lamely.
By luck, we’re already at the front of the line. “That pie was out of this world,” I tell Dez, who beams at me. “But I had to share with the whole table, so I need to actually eat something. Can I have a croissant with cheese?”
“You bet. I’ll heat it up and bring it out to you in a sec. Anything else?”
I hesitate. “Markus said you wouldn’t mind if I could look at how you make them? I’ve honestly never tasted anything this good, and I like to bake. If you truly don’t mind…”
“Oh, please, come any time. It gets boring in the Wyvern House; I’m not the only girl, but let’s just say the others don’t really have time to hang out in the kitchen. I plan on trying a mille feuille tomorrow, if you’re game?”
“Please. What time?”
“It doesn’t take that long. Eight? When’s your first class?”
“Eleven. I’ll be there.” I beam.
Dez lifts the card reader up, but before she can announce the total, Keller has seamlessly tapped his phone, paying for my food.
I attempt to glare at him, but then his eyes do their thing, where the depth of the many blues pulls me in, and I forget I’m supposed to be annoyed. Instead, I make myself lower my gaze.
Keller is a problem and a half .
Welp.
“I’d better take this one to go.”
I’m not going to say I flee, but I definitely walk out of there real fast, after a wave towards Lily, Liv, Jack, and an ever-amused Markus. He’s the only one who waves back.