42. Claire
forty-two
“Nobody move,”Penelope whispers. “I’m recording this for TikTok.”
We all sit breathless as Hope’s head hangs heavy against the tray of her bouncer. She appears dead to the world, but all of a sudden, her head lifts and she begins to bounce again. Her eyes are half lidded, and she does it in a stupor while the rest of us bite our tongues and hold in our giggles.
She is bouncing in her sleep. This has been going on for the past ten minutes.
“Home girl can’t hang,” Penelope whispers, her phone still pointed at Hope.
Finally, she knocks all the way out, and after she’s asleep for a solid two minutes, Juliet crosses her living room—a combat zone of baby toys and charcuterie snacks—to lift her sleeping daughter.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispers. As soon as she’s gone, we all exhale, laughing silently despite the fact that Hope is now out of earshot.
With Lucy and Juliet’s men at a weekend coaching conference in the city, we decided to have a girls’ night. Juliet sent Mason to hang out with his grandparents, and we’ve been snacking on junk food and dishing about our favorite books all night—in between planning for my future.
“Still a toss up?” Lucy asks me, reaching for the last sugar cookie.
“I think I’m leaning toward social work.”
The moment I say it, something clicks into place inside me, and a weight seems to balloon out of me.
“Really?” she asks.
I nod, my sudden tears overwhelming. I fan my hands in front of my face. Lucy and Penelope immediately jump up, hugging me tightly.
“This will be so good for you, Claire,” Penelope says.
“You’re already so good at getting kids to sort out their trauma,” Lucy nods.
“Are you sure you won’t get burnt out?” Penelope asks. “You know—your parents essentially used you for years as a pseudo parent, and now you’re signing up to work with kids for the rest of your life. I just don’t want you to feel trapped.”
I nod. She has a point, but…
“I like kids. My parents were right—I have ‘the gift.’ I just don’t want to raise them. I want to help kids like me, who didn’t have an outlet, who couldn’t unlock their trauma and make sense of it. I had to do that for myself. If I can be that person for another kid, then it will have been worth it.”
“Good for you, Claire Bear,” Penelope says.
Juliet returns, and we cheers our drinks to my decision.
“Do you think you’ll work at River Valley?” Juliet asks. “We would love to keep you.”
“We don’t have a social worker position,” Penelope says, frowning.
“Meadow Ridge does,” Lucy interjects. “I think they wrote a grant. Juls, you’re good at that. Maybe we could…”
As the three of them start plotting to get me as a permanent fixture at River Valley, dread fills my gut. If I work there full-time, I can’t have Nathan. But if I work somewhere else, I won’t have the support system of these women.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I still have a long road ahead of me before I’m actually in a school,” I say, needing an end to this discussion before my worry starts showing on my sleeve.
They nod. Juliet slides her phone from her pocket, and Lucy does the same.
“Ugh. I thought we said no men!” Penelope protests, chucking a pillow at Juliet.
“He was just checking in on us,” she counters, then locks her phone and puts it on the table. “It sounds like they’re having fun.”
“Yeah, Aaron said he’s bringing home an entire bag of stuff, and I quote, Like Michael Scott and his swag bag. I don’t have room for more stuff.”
“How is living together?” I ask.
“It’s an adjustment,” she starts, picking at the lint on her sock. “But now I’m kicking myself for waiting so long. I love having him there all the time. He’s my rock.”
Her cheeks flush beneath her glasses, and my heart aches.
Nathan isn’t my rock, damnit.
But I do miss him.
And admitting that opens a whole new can of worms.
I’m about to start a conversation about the newest PJ Layne romance, but when I glance up, Lucy is texting again. And this time, her cheeks are fire engine red.
It seems like everyone else is preoccupied on their phones for the moment, so I slide mine out too. What the heck?
Claire
What are you guys up to?
Nathan
We are out to dinner.
Aaron, Sam, Drake, and a coach from a neighboring school.
Claire
Having fun?
Nathan
Yes.
No.
Kind of. I wish I was with you instead.
A fist grips around my heart. What the hell do I do with that? Because I wish he was with me, too, damnit. I swallow the lump in my throat, then glance around, noticing that everyone else is still on their phones. Wow, we’re a lively bunch. Lucy has curled herself into a ball, shoulders hunched up to her ears.
Claire
What is Aaron doing right now? Lucy’s face is *red* and she’s on her phone.
Nathan
He is in the bathroom.
I laugh to myself.
Claire
Oooo, those dirty birds.
Nathan
What do you mean?
Lucy leaves the living room with a breathy, I’ll be right back, and I snicker to myself, then roll my eyes at Nathan’s next text.
Claire
They’re definitely texting each other dirty things.
And if they both just disappeared to the bathroom…
Nathan
Oh.
Why did you tell me that?
I won’t be able to look Aaron in the face when he returns.
I bite my thumbnail. I miss Nathan. Now that he’s admitted he wished we were together, I can at least admit it to myself. It’s a little after eight, and honestly, this party might be winding down anyway. The space between my thighs heats as I fire off my next message.
Claire
Maybe you should go back up to your room then. I could get your mind off of Aaron.
Nathan
You’re doing a fine job of it here. I should stay at the table.
Claire
Seriously Harding?? You’d rather stay *at dinner* than go back up to your hotel room and let me take your mind off of this dreadfully long weekend apart?
Nathan
I’m the administrator at the conference. I also have the per diem for our dinner.
I chuckle at my phone. With a quick glance to see that Lucy is still gone, Penelope is in the kitchen refilling her wine, and Juliet has her phone pressed to her ear on the phone with Mason from the sound of it, I tap out what I want.
Claire
I’m going to have to be a little more forward, aren’t I?
I’ve been thinking about your body on mine all night, Nathan.
Nathan
I’m in Boston until tomorrow afternoon.
Claire
Oh my God.
Old man.
This is sexting.
I’m trying to lead you in slowly.
Do I need to tell you how wet I’ve been all night while I’ve thought about your hand around my throat to get you back to your hotel room and play along?
Should I tell you that I hate that you’re at some big dumb conference instead of back at your house with me naked in your study?
I could just take matters into my own hands then, I guess.
I watch the bubbles appear and disappear several times, images of Nathan bending me over the window seat invading my thoughts until my phone buzzes in my hand.
Nathan
Oh. I see.
Sexting, huh?
What are you planning on doing after girls’ night?
Claire
Heading back to Penelope’s for the night.
Nathan
Will she be there?
Claire
I mean, yeah, she *does* own the place.
Nathan
Keep sassing me and I won’t tell you what I purchased for you.
Claire
*shuts up*
What’d you buy me?
Nathan
It was meant to be used together, but I don’t mind you taking it for a test run first.
In fact, the thought of you in my bed playing with the toy I bought you while I’m away is making me want to leave this dinner.
Excuse me? This man bought me a toy, and has it waiting for me at his place?
Claire
Toy???
Come home. Come home right now.
I don’t even think twice about using that word—home.
Nathan
Impatient girl. Don’t tempt me.
Make up an excuse. Don’t go back to Penelope’s tonight. I’ll text you my garage code.
It’s hard to focus for the next hour of the night. Lucy returns, flushed, and when the four of us are together in Juliet’s living room, we dive right back into girl talk. I’m distracted. Unfocused. They have to repeat questions to me. I feel terrible. Because these women took me in—as a friend and a roommate—and I’m literally thinking about our boss pinning me to the bed and using a vibrator on me instead of listening intently to their conversations.
And then, I do exactly what Nathan ordered me to.
“Oh, hey, guys, Zoey just texted. I forgot I told her I would swing by to see her for a little while. I should probably head out before it gets too late.”
I hate lying, but desperate times and desperate measures and all that.
“I think I’m gonna head out too,” Penelope adds, standing with me. “Breakfast date tomorrow? I was thinking of trying out a new recipe for banana crepes.”
“Oooo, yes! Count me in!”
It’s the least I can do, considering I’m spending the night in her boss’s bed while he’s out of town.
I thank Juliet for hosting, Lucy for helping me work through a few things on the job front, and tell Penelope not to wait up for me. The second I’ve turned the corner and am heading down the now familiar route to Nathan’s house, I call him. It goes straight to voicemail, but I receive a text moments later.
Nathan
I am still in the lobby with Aaron, Sam, Drake, and Tony. Are you on your way home?
Please don’t text and drive.
I wait until I’m in the driveway to let him know that I’ve made it to his place, that the garage code worked, and that I’m already stripping down on the way to his bedroom.
A sense of calm weighs on me as I enter Nathan’s vacant bedroom. He isn’t here, and yet the entire place is enveloped by him. His cedar and vanilla scent is tattooed onto the sheets and pillows, his withered book sits perfectly aligned on the corner of his bedside table, and one peek into his closet reveals his shirts to be aligned in both sleeve and roy-g-biv color order. I don’t feel out of place, being in his place alone.
He hasn’t texted back, so I strip to only panties, slip into one of his T-shirts, and slide under his covers. The assault on my senses—his silky sheets against my skin, and his scent all around me—has my hand sliding down my stomach and beneath the waistband of my thong. I moan the second my fingers touch my wetness.
God, I miss him.
That’s impossible right? To miss something that isn’t even yours?
But I’m lying in his bed, pretending my touch is even remotely as good as his, while I wait for him to call and tell me where he hid the vibrator he bought me, and all I can think about is how much I wish he was here with me.
I’d trade all of these sexually chargedfeelings for his arm wrapped around me in a second.
But then, my phone buzzes, and his simple, I am heading back to my hotel room now. You’d better be in my bed naked by the time I get there, reminds me that I’m allowed to feel this way too.
I slip my hand to my opening, lube up my fingers, and start absently stroking my clit while I press record on an audio message.
“You’d better hurry, Nathan. I don’t know how much longer I can take my own fingers.” I pause, slipping two inside myself and moaning for emphasis, then continue, “You promised me a toy. Don’t make me wait.”
I hit send, then bite my bottom lip as I use the wetness to slowly stroke over my clit. I’m imagining the taste of his voice over the phone when I get a text.
Nathan
What is that?
Claire
An audio message.
Are you alone?
Probably don’t press play unless you’re alone.
I send him a wink-face and the side-eye emoji, give him the twenty-seconds that the audio file contains, and slide my thumb across my phone to answer his call.
“Hey.”
“You naughty girl.”
Oh. I like phone-Nathan. He growls.
I giggle.
“I’m sorry, am I the one who purchased a sex toy?”
“No, but you are the one who sent a dirty little voice clip.” He grunts, and I close my eyes and picture him adjusting himself. “I’ll be expecting those more often from now on.”
“Yes sir,” I say in a breathy chuckle.
“You’re making it awfully difficult to stay in this hotel room.”
“Come home.”
It’s the second time I’ve told him to come to me by telling him to come home. I think we both let that settle before I break the silence.
“So. You bought me a vibrator.”
“You mentioned once that you live in a house full of people and had to master a silent orgasm. I figured that meant no toys. I wanted to be the first person to give you that kind of pleasure.”
And here, I thought I was bringing back the sexual tension. How, exactly, am I supposed to call Nathan buying me a vibrator a “sweet gesture?”
“Now you’re making me want to wait to use it.”
“No, no, sweet Claire,” he says, his voice raspy, thick with want. “You do what I tell you with that toy, or I’ll have to torture you with it when I get home.”
“And what if I like the sound of that?”
He huffs. I laugh. I never pictured phone sex as something to laugh through, but I’m glad we are.
“Where’d you put it?”
“It’s in the bedside table on your side of the bed.”
I use the time it takes me to roll over to the opposite side to fit together puzzle pieces that spell out home and your side of the bed. By the time I get the toy, I’m still not sure where those pieces fit within the bigger picture.
“It’s a simple toy. Something to start with. We can work you up to something bigger.”
Just the weight of the small, pale pink vibrator has the sheets beneath me wet. It’s discreet, no more than a few inches, but I feel like the anticipation of not only using it on myself, but Nathan slipping this inside me and wielding the control, is enough to make me come.
“And you were planning to use this on me?” I ask, my voice suddenly huskier than before.
“Yes.”
My man of a few words.
“I want you to tell me what to do then,” I say, clicking the button on the bottom so that the device starts to vibrate. I moan, and the damn thing is only in my hand.
“Are you naked?”
“I’m wearing my thong and your T-shirt.”
He groans. “How is that somehow better?”
“Are you hard?” I gasp. “I want you to touch yourself too.”
“I’ve been hard since you told me that your pussy has been wet all night after thinking about me.”
“Can you tell me what to do with it, Nathan? I’m dying over here.”
“We can’t have that. I want you to start it out on those pretty pink nipples of yours, Claire. Tease the head over them and make them nice and hard for me.”
Yeah. I will not be lasting long at all. Even at its lowest setting, the moment the tip of the vibe touches my already hard nipple, I cry out.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Nathan grumbles.
“Are you kidding—gah! Fuck.”
“I wish I could see you.”
I laugh, but it tails into a moan as I press harder against my nipple.
“Hold that thought.”
I prop my phone up on the nightstand—on my side of the bed—and switch over to FaceTime. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the sight of Nathan, spread out on a hotel bed in a plain white T-shirt, glasses askew, hair mussed like he’s been running his hand through it?
“There’s my naughty girl. Let me see you fuck the toy I bought you.”
Oh yeah. I could get used to this.