Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bryce
I don’t want to leave Claire, but I have to. Mum and Millie need me.
I feel sick, though, as I gently disentangle myself from her. It’s starting to get dark outside, and there’s nothing I’d rather do other than stay in bed with her, holding her while she sleeps. There is peace, here, like I’ve felt nowhere else.
She mumbles sleepily as I pull my arm from under her head.
“Claire.” I drop a kiss on her shoulder. “I have to go.”
“What?” She opens one eye, frowning.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I have a family thing. Believe me, I don’t want to go.”
“Nooo.” She reaches for me, pulling me back to her. I give in, wanting the feel of her body against mine once more, kissing her soft lips. “Don’t leave me.”
“I have to,” I say. “But I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.” I kiss her once more, my chest aching, bittersweet.
“Promise?” she murmurs, already going back to sleep again. I pull the sheet and blanket over her, stroking her smooth hair. It’s physically hurting me to leave her. I’ve never felt anything like it – it’s like a wrench deep inside me.
I walk out of the room before the temptation to stay with her becomes too much.
My clothes are on the floor, next to the dining table.
I pull them on. There’s another magnificent sunset outside.
I slide open the huge glass doors and step out onto the balcony.
My heart aches, my eyes sore. I lean on the balcony and take in deep breaths.
I’m worried about Millie, but this is something more.
This place, and Claire, have a hold on me.
I think I’m falling in love with her.
I guess that’s what this feeling is, anyway.
I’ve certainly never experienced it with any other woman.
The intensity of it, the speed with which it’s happening, has taken me by surprise.
But then everything with Claire, since the moment I met her, has been unexpected.
I stare at the gleaming ocean, trying to get a handle on these strange new emotions.
Monogamy has never been my thing. But I’ve also never felt about anyone the way I feel about Claire.
As though we’re connected in some fundamental way.
As though this place, her home, is also my home.
As though I don’t want anyone else. Only her.
It fucking terrifies me, if I’m honest. But it’s the kind of terror you feel when the waves get too big, the swell too rough.
It’s mixed with exhilaration, and the knowledge that it could be one of the most amazing experiences you’ve ever had, as long as you keep your head and keep riding.
Claire is not the kind of girl to mess around with.
She’s fragile, still, despite how strong she seems. She’s had so much loss, had her trust broken.
I don’t want to hurt her in any way whatsoever.
I hope, maybe, that she might be falling for me in the same way I’m falling for her.
If I could stay tonight I’d ask her about it. But I have to go.
My heart a mixture of heavy and light, I head back inside. There’s a pad of paper and a pen on the huge granite island; I grab it to write Claire a note. I’m not sure she’s awake enough to have heard what I said, and I don’t want her to wake up alone and think I’ve ditched her.
Claire,
I’m so sorry. I have to go to Melbourne, family emergency. Otherwise there’s no way I’d be leaving you, believe me. I’ll be back tomorrow, will meet you at the shop after work. If that changes I’ll let you know, I promise.
I pause, unsure how to sign it. “Love” feels both too much and like a throwaway sign-off. In the end I just sign my name, with a heart next to it. It doesn’t feel like enough to encompass how I feel, but it’s all I can do.
Then I call Mum. “I’m coming now,” I say, when she answers. “I’ll see you soon.”
The drive back to Melbourne takes about two hours.
I spend most of it thinking about Claire.
Her soft skin, how she smelled and tasted, the way she felt against me.
But also how she makes me feel. And that’s a lot more complicated.
I’m also concerned about Millie. If she’s gone back to her ex, it could mean a lot worse than just being in a bad relationship.
Worry drags at me, and I speed up as though I can outpace it.
It’s dark by the time I pull up in front of Mum’s little cottage in Richmond.
“Oh, Brycie.” She pulls me into a hug as soon as she opens the front door, and I smell her perfume and a faint tang of antiseptic as I step into the familiar warmth of home.
I think again of Claire, alone in her big house, yet protected by what her parents did for her before they died.
And then of Matt and Kylie, building their own family.
For the first time my nomadic existence feels a bit lonely and empty.
I’m not going to give up surfing or anything; it’s in my blood, and I love what I do.
But maybe it’s time for me to put down some roots of my own.
It’s in this thoughtful frame of mind that I sit at the kitchen bench, worry still curling in my chest. “What the hell is going on, Mum?”
“Oh, I didn’t want to bother you,” she starts.
I shut her down. “Mum, you know you’re not bothering me. You said everything was all right when I spoke to you yesterday. So what the hell do you mean, ‘she’s gone back to him’?”
“She’s missed a couple of meetings. Her sponsor is worried about her.”
“Right. What else?” Then I realise. I rub my hand over my face. “She wasn’t at school the other day, was she?”
“No. I got a letter from the school. She’s stopped going to classes.”
“Damn.” I try to temper my language around mum, but this is bullshit. “Have you spoken to her?”
“Oh, Bryce. You know I talk to her almost every day.” Mum shakes her head. Her brows draw together, her eyes dark. “And I hadn’t heard from her today. So I went round to check on her. And I saw … him.”
Fuck. “Is she using again?” It’s like the ground drops from under me. I can’t watch Millie go through this again. Or Mum.
“I don’t know. I got there, and he was outside her place, talking to her. I… I couldn’t face her. And I definitely didn’t want to see him. So I waited. And she let him in. Oh, Bryce.” Mum covers her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.
I go to her, pulling her into a hug. “Mum, we’ll sort this. Don’t worry.”
“I just can’t bear it if she…”
“I know, Mum. I know.” I hold her and let her cry it out.
She may be a strong woman, but she has her limits.
I was right to come back, despite how it hurt me to leave Claire.
I wish she was here now, wish I could tell her what’s going on.
I will tell her, when I go back tomorrow. I can’t fucking wait to see her.
Mum pulls back from me, wiping her eyes. “Now, enough of this,” she says, as though I’m the one crying. “Your room is all ready for you, so you can stay as long as you like.” She pulls back from me. “You look tired. Rest up, and we’ll go and see Millie in the morning.”
“You don’t want to go now?”
“Do you think we should?”
“Yeah, I think we should. If he’s back in her life, who knows what the hell he’s doing to her! Or what she’s doing right now.”
Mum nods, a line between her brows. “All right. I’ll get my bag.”
“I might take a quick shower first,” I say, conscious of the fact I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours having sex. I was in such a hurry to get back I didn’t take one at Claire’s. Plus, if she’d decided to join me, I’m not sure I’d have been able to leave. “Then we can go.”
A short while later I stand under hot water, soaping Claire’s scent from my body, trying not to panic.
If Millie has gone back to her ex and started using again, it’ll take more than a day to get her sorted and back into rehab again.
We need to do whatever it takes, of course.
But the sooner I get this shit sorted out the better.
I come out of the shower, towelling off.
I check my phone, but there are no messages from Claire.
She’s probably still sleeping. My dick hardens again at the thought of her riding me, of the way she took me, meeting me in every way. I’ve never been with anyone like her.
I think of calling her, just to hear her voice, but I don’t want to wake her. Instead I send her a message.
I’m with mum. Will talk to you tomorrow. Miss you already.
Fuck. Do I add a heart or something? I have no idea. And while she might appreciate it, a photo of my dick doesn’t feel appropriate right now with everything that’s going on.
In the end I just add an “x” and press send.
Claire
I wake suddenly, wondering where I am.
The familiar lines and shapes of my bedroom resolve themselves, faintly lit by the moonlight outside. I have no idea what time it is.
I reach across the bed for Bryce, wanting his body against mine, but it’s empty.
My stomach lurches. Maybe he’s in the ensuite.
I blink, sitting up, pushing my hair back from my face.
My whole body aches, but in the sweetest way.
I can still feel his hands on me, the way he filled me, my groin slightly sore, my inner thighs aching.
I wouldn’t change a single thing. It’s been the most amazing twenty-four hours of my life.
There’s no light on in the ensuite, and I frown.
Then a vague memory comes back to me of Bryce kissing me, tucking a blanket around me and saying something about having to leave.
Surely he wouldn’t have, though? Doubt curls in my stomach.
I get out of bed, padding across the carpet and grab my robe from the hook behind the door.
I pull the tie around my waist as I head out into the open-plan living area.
It’s dark out here as well, a faint paleness on the horizon hinting at the approaching dawn.
Shit. It’s a good thing I woke up. I have to work today and I didn’t set an alarm.
Too busy doing other, far more pleasurable things.
Heat rushes through me again at the memory, the hardness of Bryce’s body, his flickering tongue.
The way he slammed into me, teasing me with his hips. Fuck. I want him again.
But where is he?
My bra and thong are on the floor next to the dining table. I bend and pick them up, then notice a sheet of paper lying on the table. I pick it up, squinting in the darkness to read what it says.
Shit. A family emergency? I don’t even really know anything about his family, I realise. He mentioned growing up in Melbourne, but not much more than that. I feel like an idiot for not asking about it, especially when he seemed so interested in me.
Otherwise there’s no way I’d be leaving you, believe me.
The phrase thrills through me. I want him back, want him with a yearning that surprises me in its intensity.
I knew I was catching feelings, but this is more than that, something on a deeper level, a need to have him in my life.
He’s signed off with a heart. I sigh, clutching the letter to my chest like a lovesick teenager.
Because I am lovesick, I realise. Lovesick for him.
Being without him feels as though I’ve lost something vital.
I can’t wait for him to come back to me.
I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Certainly not Simon.
I told him I loved him, but I know now I had no idea what real love is.
Real love makes you feel safe, cherished, desired.
Simon never really made me feel any of those things.
But Bryce does.
In just over a week he’s managed to capture my heart.
I stagger back to bed, remembering to set my alarm before curling up, Bryce’s letter still in my hands. I can smell him on my sheets, faintly musky, amber and salt. I breathe him in, imagining his arms around me as I drift back to sleep.