Chapter 16
16
KINGSTON
D onation the third time around wasn’t as easy.
I had been forced to stay the night for observation since my blood pressure had spiked, and then I’d been nauseous for most of the evening. Complications and side effects were always going to be an issue, but if it could help Buckley, I’d do it again and again—though I was pretty sure my body was done. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to donate again, mostly because everything hurt like a bitch.
I lay on my couch, notebook in hand as I went through a couple of the scenarios for Noah and our next op, but all I really wanted to do was try to find a better position on the couch.
“You have an adjustable bed, why aren’t you using it?” Claire asked as she walked into the living room, two cups of tea in hand.
Grumpy and in pain, I closed my eyes. “Don’t make me drink tea. Tea’s for when I’m sick.”
“You’re not feeling well, and your mom told me to make you tea. So I’m listening to Mrs. Montgomery.”
I opened my eyes and a smile slid over my face. “It’s true. I would listen to her too. She’s scary.”
“You’re very lucky I’m no longer on the phone with her. Because she would’ve heard that.”
I winced, and then did so again when I accidentally shifted on the couch. Claire rushed over as quickly as she could with two hot cups of tea.
“What’s wrong? You really need to be on the bed.”
Ignoring the pain, I raised a brow. “Look at you trying to get me into bed.”
“There is no way you and I are having sex,” she said with a laugh. “I mean, you’re amazing in bed and all, but I’m not about to break you.”
“You’re so sweet. Worrying about breaking me. Which I’m pretty sure we could make a case for the counterpoint.”
“So full of yourself, and you won’t even sit on your own bed that will adjust to your pain levels.”
“I don’t work well in bed. I never did my homework in my bedroom either. It’s a thing. I want that to be a space for just relaxing.” I raised a brow. “And fucking. You know, all the cardio I need.”
“Are you still on pain meds? You’re a little loopy.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m just itchy or something. Need to get out. See the world. Maybe go ice skating again.”
The laugh that escaped her mouth should have hurt, but she looked too damn cute. “There’s no way we’re going ice skating right now. You need to heal. Rest. You’ve done two donations this year. And your body was amazing enough to replace what you had the first time. Give it some space to do it again. For yourself.”
“I know. I’m just a little claustrophobic.”
“I can open a window.” She ran her hand through my hair, and I nearly leaned into her palm like a cat.
This was so weird, having her here and making it feel normal. But it was normal. It wasn’t like Claire was new in my life. But I’d never had a serious girlfriend to the point that she would be here while I was sick. Or practically have a drawer since she was taking care of me.
Claire had a drawer in my house. When the hell had that happened?
Then again, I had one over at her place, because it was just easier. Suddenly my chest started to tighten up, and it had nothing to do with recovering.
“You don’t have to work, you know. You can just lie in bed, watch a movie, do anything other than sit on this couch where you’re clearly uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine. I want to get these things done for Noah. We have more cases than usual on the docket, and I want to do my part. I’m co-owner and all.”
“You are. And you do a lot. And you’re allowed to take a break.”
“I did the first time. And I took a couple of days off for this. Now I’m just going to work on paperwork. Since I can’t get out in the field. Or get on a ladder.”
“You’re not going to get on the field anytime soon, are you?” she asked, a slight panic in her voice.
“No, but I will, you know.” I paused and reached out for her hand. “You know sometimes that I have to go out and play bodyguard, right? That is my job to keep my client safe? You’re okay with that, right?”
For some reason, we had never talked about that. Despite how many hours a day we spent together, or the fact that she had been someone I had protected in the past, we didn’t talk about my job.
“Of course,” she said softly. “I know what you do. You’ve taught me self-defense. You’re still teaching me self-defense, for that matter. I’m okay with you being in danger, as long as it’s not every day. Plus, it’s not my place, I don’t have a right to tell you what your job is. You do the work of your heart. At least I think so. I’m not saying this right. ”
“I do like what I do. I like making sure people are safe. Whether it’s setting up a security system or being the one that’s out in the field. My cousins do a little more of the technical work, the cyber security things, but that’s not me. I just don’t want you to worry that I’m out there.”
“I do realize that you’re in a position where you’ve literally been blown up before, just like your cousin, but I’m going to worry. You can’t make me hold back from that. Just like your family worries.”
“I was only blown up once.” I paused. “Okay twice, but I wasn’t technically in the room for the second one.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“What?” I said again, and she ran her hand over her face.
“Maybe you can go back to just doing paperwork forever.” She grinned as she said it, and I knew she was joking, even if part of her was telling the truth. My mother and fathers did the same thing. They didn’t want me out there. And it wasn’t as if I shot up the bad guys or arrested people. I had never fired a gun other than on the range. That wasn’t what I did. I made sure the people who were around me were safe and got them where they needed to be. I wasn’t James Bond.
And when I told Claire that, she just rolled her eyes. “You do like martinis though. ”
I nearly shrugged, then remembered the twinge. “Because I like olives with blue cheese. That’s really the only reason to drink just pure vodka.”
“So you don’t do gin?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve only done vodka. Now I feel like I should have done a gin martini. Maybe that would be different.”
“I don’t know, most gin tastes like Pine-Sol to me.”
“I think we need to get you the right gin.” This felt weird—as if we’d been sitting like this, having normal conversations all of our lives.
She smiled then, before handing me my tea. “Drink this. So that way I don’t have to lie to your mother.”
“Fine. For Mom. But you have to drink yours too.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know she told me to?”
“Because you’re drinking tea when I know you like coffee more.”
“There’s nothing better than a latte with caramel drizzle. Sugar and I are best friends.” She kissed her fingers in a chef kiss, and I grinned, clinking my mug to hers.
“To getting off this couch.”
“You can go to bed anytime you want.”
“Only if you’re with me.” Her eyes went dark for a moment, and I reached out, playing with her hair. “You’ve been spending a lot of time over here, helping me. Hell, most of the past weeks have been about me, my family, planning a party, and then working with Buckley and the whole ward. Are you having time for yourself? With your friends?”
“It’s weird that all my friends are pretty much your friends too. So I do spend time with them. And I’m working. My life isn’t all about you, I promise. But I don’t mind part of it being about you. I like you.” She pressed her lips together, as if wanting to say something more, and I swallowed hard, my chest tightening once again, this time forcing me to set my mug down.
“Claire,” I began, and she held up her hand.
“It’s fine. I know you’re not feeling well, and we totally don’t need to talk about feelings. It would just feel out of place right now.”
“I haven’t felt like this before.”
I knew as soon as I said the words, I had said the wrong thing. Her face fell just for an instant, before she smoothed out her features again, and sipped her tea.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“Claire.”
“You really don’t have to say anything. You’re healing, and we’re waiting on news from Buckley’s family. So why don’t we just get back to work, okay?”
I was doing this all wrong. I just hadn’t let myself think about what I felt for her. Because I wanted Claire. I wanted her in my life, and I liked her a lot. But what was love? What was that feeling? Shouldn’t you just know? Considering how many people in my life were in healthy, loving relationships, you would think I would know exactly what that meant, but I didn’t. Was it this heart-wrenching feeling that caused me pure panic? Was that love?
“I care about you,” I blurted, wanting to say something. Anything. How was I supposed to know if I was in love with her? Why wasn’t there a manual on this?
She flinched at the words, then she set her tea down very carefully.
“Shit. That is the worst fucking thing to say. I know that, I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t felt like this before either. So don’t apologize.” Her words were so clipped, icy, that I was afraid that she’d walk away.
“Claire, I just...”
“Don’t. Those are your feelings. And mine are my own. I care about you.”
“What are your feelings?” I asked, knowing that maybe if I latched onto those, I’d be able to figure things out.
I didn’t want to do this wrong. I didn’t want to hurt her. But hell, I didn’t have a transcript for this. There wasn’t anything I could say other than I wanted her in my life. And I didn’t want her to walk away. Was that love ?
“Those are mine until I figure them out,” she said as she stood up. “And I’ve really put you in a spot when you can’t even escape. And this was totally not the right time for this conversation.” Her alarm went off as soon as she said it, and she smiled brightly, her eyes a little manic. “And now I have to go to work.”
“Fuck. Claire.” I tried to get up and groaned at pain rocketing up my back.
“Stop. Just sit down. We’re okay. You and me, we’re okay,” she said quietly as she leaned toward me.
“Are we?” I whispered.
“We are. And I really do need to get to work. I have a meeting that I can’t get out of. A huge event that’s going to bring me a lot of future business, I hope. And we sort of stumbled into this conversation that doesn’t feel very organic. So we’ll talk about it later, okay? We’re fine.” She kissed me softly, so I cupped her face, and deepened the kiss, desperation in every movement.
“Come back?” I whispered.
“Of course.” Then she brushed her lips against mine, and left, leaving me alone on the couch, realizing I had just stepped in it so hard that I knew I would have to grovel worse than ever to get back.
How the hell had things turned so quickly?
And where the hell had I gone wrong?
My door opened again before I could even figure out how to get off this couch and run after her, and hope spread through me.
“Claire?” I called out.
“No it’s just us,” Kane said as he and Crew came inside.
“We’re on shift to babysit you with Claire at work. Sorry we’re a little late.” Crew closed the door behind both and frowned at me. “What the hell did you do?”
I held up both hands ignoring the pain in my side. “I really fucked up.”
“Oh hell. Did you break her heart?” Kane asked, before throwing himself in my armchair. “Phoebe is going to kill me if you hurt Claire. Do you understand that? That woman is the love of my life. I’m going to propose to her as soon as everything calms down and we’re through the next crisis. But hell, there’s always a fucking crisis in this family. What the hell did you do to Claire?”
“I didn’t do anything.” That sounded petulant but I needed to catch up to my damn thoughts.
“Now that’s a lie,” Crew said as he sat in the opposite chair from Kane. “Let me guess, things got too real, and you got too scared?”
“I don’t like the mocking tone from a man who isn’t in a relationship,” I bit out.
“Fine. I’m just going to sit back and watch you Montgomerys fuck up everything again. It takes you forever to realize what you’re feeling, and then you don’t say the words.”
“Daisy really hurt you that bad?” Kane asked, and I froze, not realizing where this conversation was heading.
Crew let out a mocking laugh. “No. I’m not talking about me. I’m doing just fine. Daisy and I are friends. That’s all we ever should have been.”
Then who the hell was he talking about? I didn’t ask. “Now that we’re done dissecting Crew’s love life, can you help me figure out mine?”
“Well, did you tell her you love her?” Crew asked.
I looked at him, my mouth gaping like the goldfish that I had joked with Claire about earlier.
“I’m going to take that as a no,” Kane said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “How could you fuck that up?”
Scowling, I leaned forward. “So says the man who broke up with Phoebe before.”
“And I groveled. I fucked up there. And we’re better than ever. She’s going to be my wife.”
“Did you get a ring?” Crew asked.
“Yes. It’s hiding in Dad’s safe.”
“Good place for it. When are you going to propose?”
“After the party. That way she can enjoy time with the family, and we don’t take attention away from everyone getting together, you know? Plus there’s new babies around, and I don’t know, I just want it to be the two of us.” Kane then glared at me. “Because I love her. Just like you love Claire. All of us can see it.”
He made it sound so easy when it was anything but. “How do you know? How do you know if you love someone.”
“I used to think if you had to ask that, it wasn’t really love,” Crew began, and held up his hands as I scowled at him. “But that would be wrong. Because love isn’t a single thing. There are thousands of poems and books and movies about it, and you just never know. You don’t know until you’re feeling it. I don’t even know if I’ve felt it,” he countered, and it looked like Kane wanted to ask who. “But it doesn’t have to be this cupid heart love bomb bullshit. It can just be the fact that you care about a person.”
“That’s what I told her.”
“Oh my God,” Kane said, putting his hands over his face. “You said you cared for her?”
I winced, as Crew stood up and began to pace. “That is after I said I had never felt like this before,” I put in, knowing that I was digging my own grave with platitudes.
“Next time just say it’s not you it’s me, and add a few other cliches, why don’t you?” Crew asked.
“We weren’t even really talking about it. And then I just blurted it out. Because I needed to say something. Because she’s been so amazing and caring, and she does everything she can to help everyone around her. And I wanted to say something about how I felt but then I didn’t know and then it was there, and I couldn’t stop myself.”
“I want you to think about what you just said and think about the words that you weren’t saying,” Kane whispered.
“Tell me this,” Crew said after a moment. “Where do you see yourself in the next month? With Claire?”
I didn’t even pause in my response. “Of course.”
“There’s not an ‘of course’ if you’re worried about what could be,” Kane put in.
Crew shook his head. “Where do you see yourself in a year? With someone else?”
“No. I can’t think of myself with anyone else. I’m with Claire.”
Kane sighed. “Do you see yourself moving in together? Or sharing a drawer?”
“We already have drawers in each other’s houses…” I answered, feeling more like an idiot with every passing second.
“Where do you see yourself in five years? With her or without her?” Crew asked. “Or does the thought of even thinking that far ahead without her hurt?” I rubbed my hand over my chest, and Crew clucked his tongue at me. “Bingo. ”
“You fucked up,” Kane said pointedly.
Everything clicked and I realized I was an idiot. “Oh my God, I’m in love with Claire.”
“Oh no, this is brand new information,” Crew said deadpan, and I flipped both of them off.
“I need to tell her. Can I call her?”
“You really shouldn’t do that over the phone or even a text after you screwed up,” Kane answered.
“But the party’s tomorrow, and everyone’s going to be there. She has to go in early because she’s planning it, and I said I would meet her there. She’s not even coming over tonight.”
“Then tell her tomorrow. Find a way to make it so you can be on your knees and grovel when you do,” Kane added.
“Of course you love her.” Crew stared at me.
I looked at Crew at the simplicity of his words. “How is this of course?”
Kane looked between us. “Because you wouldn’t be so worried about how to fix this if you weren’t. You were so worried about being wrong so you wouldn’t hurt her, that you didn’t realize it was right.”
Kane cleared his throat. “When did you get all philosophical?”
“I have no idea. I really need to get laid,” Crew said, breaking the tension, and I ran my hands over my face.
“I need to tell her. Tomorrow. I need to fix this. ”
“You really do,” Kane put in.
“Tell her at the party. She’ll be there in a pretty dress, you can dance around, there will be twinkle lights I suppose, and just do it.”
“But what if she doesn’t love me back.”
And that right there told me exactly what I’d been fearing this entire time. Kane just glared at me, but it was Crew who gave me that look of pity.
“I think she does. Kane thinks she does. All of our circle thinks she does.”
“But your love of her isn’t contingent on her loving you. Tell her for the both of you. And if she doesn’t say it back, that doesn’t make your feelings any less meaningful. But fix this, okay? Because both of you deserve to hear it.”
And with that, Crew pulled out his phone, ignoring us, and I just stared at Kane, wondering where the hell Crew had gotten all that information.
I needed a plan to make things right.
I had fallen in love with Claire Harlow.
And I might have just broken her heart.