Duke
I’m panicking. This was a bad idea. A whole evening alone with Clementine, out on a boat beneath the stars? Eating together, sipping wine? Just the two of us away from reality for a few hours?
Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.
Even the band playing on the top deck is really good. Fuck. We need someone to knock over a table or something. A gross smell to float up from the river. Anything to make this feel less perfect, less like a date.
What was I thinking, bringing her here?
It’s dangerous. No one’s even looking at us weirdly—like I’m too old for her. Too giant. Like they’re trying to figure out how I don’t crush Clementine in my grip like King Kong.
We get looks like that sometimes, when Clem and I walk side by side in public. Can never tell whether I should be more flattered or offended by them.
Guess I’d do better not to notice them at all.
“I suck at this.” Clem’s laughing at herself, chasing a cherry tomato around her plate with a fork. Christ, she looks so beautiful in that dress, her red hair loose around her shoulders. Every time it flutters in the breeze, I get a whiff of coconut shampoo. She’s gonna give me a heart attack.
Her smile widens when she glances up at me, and I feel myself grinning back. Listen, when sweet Clementine smiles, it’d take an arch villain not to respond in kind.
“You can cheat and use your fingers.” I jerk my head toward the nearest table, where a young couple are practically tongue-kissing over the wine bucket. “Don’t think anybody will notice.”
“You will. Don’t want you thinking less of me, Duke.”
“Impossible.” I mean for it to sound light and jokey, but it comes out so serious. Like I’m declaring my undying love.
Hell, maybe I am.
And I’m gonna miss this girl so much after graduation. I’ll miss Meg too, of course I will—more than if I sawed off my right hand. But in the dark, secret corners of my heart, part of me wonders if I’ll miss Clementine more.
It’s shitty, but I always knew Meg would do her own thing one day. Start her own life; go off on adventures. I knew eventually I’d see less of her, and I made my peace with that, because letting your kid grow up is part of the deal.
But Clem…
It’s completely insane, but I want to keep her. Forever.
Local ogre traps beautiful woman in his basement. Pitchforks needed.
“What are you frowning about?” Clem pops the cherry tomato in her mouth, chewing neatly.
“Nothing. Just thinking about a newspaper headline. Here, try this bread.”
We make it through dinner, somehow. Though when Clem moans with every bite of dessert, her eyelids fluttering, I nearly bend my spoon in half.
And after the meal, it’s a relief to find ourselves over by the rail on the top deck, tucked together in a patch of shadow. We listen to the music and watch the moonlight glint on the black water, the boat drifting parallel with the bank.
“Oh!” Clem’s arm brushes against mine when she points at two glowing gator eyes. We’re standing close together; closer than we need to.
Closer than we would in the light.
“Yeah. They’ve got us surrounded.” Her hair tickles my cheek as I duck down to murmur: “Hope they don’t like coconut shampoo.”
Her laugh hitches and she presses closer. “Or floral sundresses.”
“Oh, they definitely like those.”
My heart’s hammering so hard right now. Thumping against my rib cage, my pulse loud in my ears. I squeeze the rail tight, and I’m gonna leave fingerprint dents in the metal if I’m not careful.
But Clem really doesn’t mind this? Standing pressed together, mingling body heat, our clothes crinkling? For no other reason except that we feel like it?
If Meg were here…
Well, she’d probably boot me overboard. She’s super protective of Clementine, and I’ve always been glad about that. Doesn’t mean I’m okay with being the villain in this tale.
Clearing my throat, I move a few inches away. Clem exhales softly, but she lets me go, and her voice is sad when she says, “I won’t see you once Meg is gone, will I?”
So it’s on her mind too.
Christ. Look at the pair of us.
There’s so much unspoken between us—but that doesn’t mean we’re clueless. Because Clem watches me way more than is ordinary, and I…
I’m gone for her. I’m cooked.
“Probably not as much.” Not unless I can think of some good excuses to see her—and believe me, I’ve been wracking my brain, searching for pretty reasons we could give the outside world. What if she found a job in this city? Would it be weird if I spent time with her then?
I could never suggest that. It’s asking too much.
The boat hums beneath us, soft vibrations thrumming through our bodies. Tingling. The breeze is warm, and the air smells like vegetation and damp soil. Vines dangle from the trees on the riverbank, probing into the dark water like searching fingers, and all the while, the stars throb overhead.
“You could come visit me.” The words blurt out without my permission, but I won’t take them back. Not when Clementine glances up at me, her eyes so wide and hopeful in the moonlight. “If you wanted to.”
Her mouth twists into a rueful smile. “I always want to be around you, Duke.”
She sounds so sad as she says it. So tired and resigned, and I… fuck.
I can’t stand this anymore. Denying myself is one thing, but I can’t bear it if Clem’s lonely too.
And maybe we shouldn’t stand so close to each other, or confess things like that; maybe we shouldn’t spend time alone.
We clearly don’t have much restraint left.
But right now, tucked away in the shadows of this deck, we’re not hurting anyone but ourselves—because we’re the ones who need to go back to real life after this and act normal.
Clementine lets me turn her so easily, backing up against the rail. She lets me crowd around her, gripping the bar on either side of her body, and I’m out of control. Breathing hard.
Is this happening?
My need for her has me by the throat.
Never had her alone like this, with reality so far away and all bets off. It’s harder than I thought it would be. It slices me deep.
“Say that again,” I grind out. When I duck down to press my face against her throat, Clem quivers. She laughs weakly, gripping my shirt in both hands. “Say you’ll miss me.”
“You know I will. Your beard tickles, Duke.”
It must tickle worse when I kiss her pulse point, the bristles dragging against her sensitive skin. When I press closer, rubbing my face against her neck; when I take hold of her narrow waist and squeeze.
She’s so tiny. So off limits.
Fuck, I’ve wanted her for so long. What is wrong with me?
There’s no excuse for what I’m doing—no chance of misunderstanding here. I’m crowding against my daughter’s best friend like a beast, panting against her bare throat, and the only thing that stops me from throwing myself overboard in pure self-loathing is the way Clem whimpers and yanks me closer.
She wants this.
Hell, she likes this.
Even my big belly rubbing up against her? She likes that too?
I’m all in a muddle. But when Clementine turns her face and kisses my earlobe, when she tugs on it with her teeth—
I lose my goddamn mind.
All these years of restraint, of holding myself back; of being appropriate with her. They’re all gone in a blink, and I kiss her mouth. Hard.
“Mmph!”
Is there a better sound than this young woman moaning against my lips? Is there a better feeling than her little body arching against mine, rubbing up as shameless as a house cat? Lily pads churn all around us, stirred up by our path, and I’m all tossed up inside too.
We’ve done it now: we’ve set everything on fire. So why not show her how badly I’ve wanted her all these years? Why hold back?
“So fucking sweet,” I tell her between kisses, my hands roaming over her sides, her shoulders, her hair.
The music sounds distant, like it’s coming from far away.
Water sucks at the side of the boat. “You know how many times I’ve wanted to do this, Clementine?
You know how many times I’ve wanted to press you against a wall and kiss you breathless? ”
And she is breathless. With her eyes glassy, her lips kiss-swollen, she looks as ruined by this as I feel.
Slender hands yank at my collar. “I know. I know. Keep—keep going. Please, Duke.”
As if I could stop. This river cruise is three hours long, and I’m going to spend every remaining second with her body plastered against mine. After that… reality calls.
But for now, she’s mine.
“Every day I spend not touching you is torture, baby. Every day, you hear me?” My words are heated, spilling over her skin as I kiss her, stroke her, squeeze her.
Strands of her flyaway hair keep snagging in my beard, and one of her dress straps has fallen down, and if anyone glances over, they’ll think I really am an ogre, fixing to eat her alive. I don’t care.
“You’re my punishment, Clementine. I’ve done wrong at some point in my life, and not having you is my fire and brimstone punishment.”
She kisses me back hard, and her cheeks are damp. Is she crying?
“I hate it too,” Clem mumbles against my lips. Her breath hitches, and she’s definitely crying. “So what was my sin?”
“Baby,” I say again, so broken.
And just like that, the heat drains from my body. I stop rutting; stop panting all over her. She’s hurting from this, clearly as heartbroken as I feel, and there’s nothing left to do except stand in silence together, holding one another.
Her head tucks so neatly beneath my chin. Clem’s so soft and small, wrapped in my arms.
After a while, her body stops shaking with sobs. She quietens down, and there’s a damp patch on the front of my shirt, but that’s fine.
Won’t let her go. Won’t waste a single second of this evening.
“M-Meg can’t ever find out about this,” Clem finally says against my chest, her voice muffled. I grimace at the riverbank, but I won’t argue.
“I know.”
“She’s m-my only real family. I can’t lose her.”
Clem’s hair is soft beneath my palm, and I stroke it from roots to ends. “I know, baby. I know.”
And I hate lying to my daughter; hate feeling Clementine fall apart in my arms. Hate feeling this smoking crater where my chest used to be.
But Clem’s right. She’s my daughter’s best friend—a goddamn college student, and half my age. She hasn’t even graduated yet. This can’t happen, for so many reasons.
So. We’ll get back on track.
We’ve had our one moment of weakness, and now it’s done.