Chapter 8
Eight
JESSE
T here was something about the way Rachel said the word complementary that piqued my interest. I knew it had something to do with Clara.
As I hung up my suit over my wardrobe door, I did a quick search of complementary colours for purple and immediately got my answer.
Yellow.
Suddenly, I had a flashback to an afternoon in April.
It had been an excessively hot day for London in the spring, and Clara and I had decided that if we had to work, then we might as well do it in the sun. The ten-minute walk to Hampstead Heath seemed to last an hour in the sticky humidity of the day, and even the supermarket pit stop to pick up some food did nothing to cool us down.
Clara had a superhero ability to find the perfect spot in any given park. They always had the perfect amount of sun and shade, and within mere moments of us arriving on the Heath, she found one.
We’d been working in companionable silence, picking at the food we’d bought when everything had gone to shit.
The heat became too much for Clara to bear, and she shed her black crop and settled back onto the blanket in a yellow bralette. It was an image that has lived in my head ever since.
Yellow suited Clara to a tee.
And I was going to complement her perfectly.
Before I could overthink what that meant, I heard three knocks on the door.
Clara.
I opened my door and found her leaning against the opposite wall by her front door.
“Surprise, it’s tomorrow!” She smiled, and I laughed quietly. “It has been brought to my attention that I don’t know for certain if you can drive. So, can you?”
I nodded, getting distracted by how good Clara looked.
That was something I was doing a lot more these days. Checking her out and sneaking glances at her when I thought she wasn’t looking. I ran my eyes up the long line of her legs stretched out in front of her. I drank in the way her black jumpsuit clung to her perfectly. One of the straps was hanging off her shoulder. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to go over there and put it back in its place or pull it further down her arm, peeling the whole thing off as I kissed my way down her body right there in the hallway.
“Great. Would you feel comfortable driving a car in France?” Clara’s voice snapped me out of my fantasy.
“That will be fine,” I said. My voice sounded deeper than normal.
“Awesome. I will get my dad to stand down on the pick-up duties.” She smiled and pushed off the wall to unlock her front door.
“Wait, can I ask you a question?”
She turned around.
“Sure.”
“How are you getting your dress to France?”
“My bridesmaid one?”
I nodded.
“It’s just going in my suitcase. Rachel, unsurprisingly, managed to find enough space in her suitcase for a steamer.”
“Resourceful of her.”
“She takes great offence to creases in clothes. Was there anything else?”
I shook my head. “Nothing from me, you?”
She shook her head and turned her key in the lock, her eyes not leaving mine.
“Nope. I will see you tomorrow.”
“That you will.” She smiled as she stepped into her flat and closed the door.