CHAPTER 31
Claire
Things are better than I could’ve imagined. Spring is right around the corner, and the blasting rays of sunlight make me feel good.
I can’t wait for summer.
I can’t wait to settle in the backyard with a book in hand.
I’m wearing black leggings and a long white blouse for work, with simple gold jewelry to match, happy to dress in lighter pieces of clothing as the weather warms.
“So, I have an idea,” I tell Harvey on Friday morning. I open the blinds in his room to let the sun in after training.
He showered and looks all cozy in his loose gray muscle tee and sweatpants. It’s obvious he’s regained some muscle.
“Oh no,” Harv teases me.
“Let’s clean your room,” I suggest, sitting on his bed.
He chuckles. “That excites you way too much.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Though I’m sure you’ll appreciate it too,” I reply, leaning back a little.
“Alright, I’m convinced.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, let’s do this, ” he says with a big smile on his face.
God, this man.
I wish he could see himself through my eyes. I wish he could sit tall and have all the confidence in the world.
“I’m surprised you don’t have your art on the wall,” I comment, eyeing the light gray wall in question.
“Nah, I’m not a douche.”
I laugh as I clean his shelves properly before we move on to his desk. I drop a black notebook by accident, and I’m surprised when I pick it up and come face-to-face with a drawing of myself.
His talent is unprecedented.
When I look at him, he has one hand in the air like he’s about to pry his sketchbook out of my hands, but something stops him.
“You drew me beautifully.”
“That’s because you’re beautiful.” He clears his throat and wheels closer to me, taking it from me.
He drew me happy and soulful. I want to see more. “Are there more?”
“Ah, yeah.” He nods, seeming embarrassed.
“Oh, Harvey.” I can’t help myself. I lean down and kiss his cheek. As I’m about to pull away, he turns his head and kisses my lips softly.
We break apart, both looking away for a split second before he pulls me into his lap, and I straddle him, feeling him grab my thighs.
“Argh, Claire.”
I stare at him with pleading eyes, shaking my head, because he makes me feel the same way.
I am lost for this man.
I give him another kiss, unable to keep my hands to myself now that I’ve kissed him again. I promised myself we wouldn’t. I told myself we couldn’t.
Not until he dealt with his breakup.
But he’s been doing better than I thought he would. He seems livelier.
And he drew me .
So I kiss him because being on top of him like this isn’t enough. It’s not enough that he’s firmly gripping my ass.
I need more.
I need him to touch other things.
Quickly and slowly and roughly.
“Harv…” I break our kiss to press kisses to his neck, around his ear, and down to his Adam’s apple.
“Hmm,” he moans, and the way he’s holding my waist like he owns me and I’m finally home is enough to make me wet.
He’s mine.
At least one day he will be.
He unbuttons my white blouse and slips the sleeves down my arms, revealing my black bra and cleavage. I lift his gray tee up, and he takes it off so I can trace his stomach and the lines of his developing abs.
He’s so handsome.
This blue-eyed man stole my heart, and I don’t want it back.
“You drew me,” I whisper against his lips, my breathing affected by his kisses.
“I noticed you early on, Claire.”
I kiss him again, and I take it all in, every magical aspect of this. When he says things like that, it makes me believe he might feel as strongly about me as I do him.
I savour our kiss as if it’s the last kiss I’ll ever experience. I cherish the feelings and emotions that Harvey awakens in me. He makes me feel more feminine than I’ve ever felt in my life.
I let out a soft moan when he grabs me by the neck before his lips meet mine again. I sigh as he gently bites my earlobe and breathes in my ear while I look up, feeling as if the universe is aligning perfectly today.
“Harvey…” I soak in his kisses on my neck. “You mean so much to me.” I grab his face with my hands, wanting him to listen to me because I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
“Claire…I…” He clears his throat.
I trace his lips, then I shut him up with my lips instead. Because he shouldn’t admit to anything until he’s ready.
When we pull apart, knowing we shouldn’t move too fast, he stares at me in awe. “I don’t get how you can be so understanding of everything. If the roles were reversed and you had another man in your life, I wouldn’t handle it well.”
“We’re in a complicated situation. You two were together when we met, and I feel like I ruined that.”
“It’s not your fault, Claire, not at all.” He places a kiss on my forehead, and it settles my qualms.
“Let’s finish cleaning.” I get off his lap, releasing his hand last.
“Sure,” he agrees before thanking me.
I clean every wall and border of his room. We donate his old clothes, and I wish I could deny that I smelled and enjoyed the scent of his clothing, so soft and manly all at once, that I picked up from his drawers and closet.
By the end, his room smells as fresh as lemons. It’s airy and spotless, and I can tell by the smile on his face that he’s glad we tackled this.
“I have a question.” I swallow. “I’m assuming that you have drawings of Gemma as well?” I know the answer the second I ask. It’s clear as day in his eyes, worry darting across his expression.
“I have a few, just a few. Mostly they’re drawings of you from the time we met.”
“I see.”
Stupid me, wishing he only had eyes for me.
“Gemma saw them, and we got into a fight over it. I guess it was clear to everyone how infatuated I was with you from the start.”
“Yes, perhaps,” I whisper. “In historical romance novels, infatuation is key in relationships. But in reality, it dissipates rather rapidly.”
“Hmm.” He ponders my words. “Or maybe it grows into something more powerful and worthy.” Then he wheels closer to me, taking my hands. “What we have is more than infatuation.”
“I know.” I force a small smile.
“I promise, Claire.”
I love you.
I really do, and I know I shouldn’t, but he’s ingrained in my whole being, and I’m not willing to let him go.
I hope I never have to.
I hope I’m not being foolish and that I’m not making the same mistakes my mom did.
I hope with us it’ll be different.