Clarke
“Is something wrong?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. I wanted to go to her—to close the space between us—but I held myself still. “If this is about watching Melly for a moment—”
Avalon shook her head, smiling softly as she cut me off with a quiet laugh. “No. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but your sister is a cool kid. I really don’t mind spending time with her.”
Relief bubbled up in my chest, loosening something tight inside me. I reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers. The familiar shape of her knuckles, the warmth of her palm—it grounded me.
Despite her chaos, Avalon felt steady. Safe. Like a buoy in a storm. She lifted our joined hands and brushed them against her cheek. “I had a very interesting conversation with your father earlier.”
I choked out a laugh and kissed her knuckles. “Oh God. Did he scare you off? Are you about to tell me you’re packing your bags and sprinting back to the Hollywood Hills?”
She giggled, and I took the opportunity to spin her gently. She laughed louder, arms settling on my chest as she steadied herself.
“It’ll take more than knock-off Tom Selleck to get rid of me,” she teased. “We talked about you, actually.”
I raised a brow. “Me? What did he say?” I sighed, leaning back against the desk. “Did he apologize for selling my horse? Or—wait, he probably told you I’m a crybaby and you need to handle me carefully because I’m one emotional hiccup away from detonating like an old bomb.”
I inhaled sharply. I really needed to remember to breathe between monologues.
Avalon crossed her arms, watching me with that quiet, unnerving attentiveness she’d developed over the summer. I dropped my gaze to the floor, unable to meet her eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I muttered, mirroring her pose.
“Like what?”
I pressed my palms to my forehead. “Like you understand. This is not the time to play the sympathy card.”
I heard her shift—soft footsteps—and then she was beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence settled warm and heavy between us.
“You’re right,” she said gently. “I don’t understand. But I do know he cares about you. And sure, selling Artemis might feel huge— but I’m sure he has his reasons.”
I nodded slowly. Dad was a good man. A good father. And sometimes good fathers had to make hard decisions. I knew that. I just didn’t want to accept it.
“Maybe selling Artemis was a business move,” Avalon continued, “but that doesn’t mean your feelings don’t matter.” Her voice softened. “Who takes care of Clarke? Who apologizes to you? Who puts your feelings first?”
Something warm and wet slid down my cheek and over my lip. Salty. God. Was I crying?
“I guess… I do,” I whispered. “I always have—”
“Let me, Clarke.” Avalon’s voice cut through my sentence—firm, steady, certain. “Let me.”
Two words. Two small, devastating words.
And the wall I’d spent years building—brick by brick, wound by wound—crumbled in her hands.
If she hadn’t caught me, I would’ve sunk to the floor in a chiffon heap. Her arms wrapped around me, holding me upright as I folded into her. She smelled like cedar and vanilla and something warm I couldn’t name.
How did she do this? How did she get past every defense I’d ever built? Was it the way she cared for Melody? The self-awareness she’d grown into? The fact that my sharp edges didn’t scare her away? Or was it simply that she wanted to be here?
“I’m sorry, Clarke,” she whispered into my hair. “I’m so sorry.” She pressed soft, warm kisses to my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
I turned toward her, vision blurred with tears, trying to make out her face.
“Kiss me,” I breathed. “Do you think you could kiss me?”
Avalon wiped my tears with her thumb, and when my vision cleared, she was smirking—that signature, infuriating, irresistible smirk.
“I don’t think there’s a universe where I say no to that.”
She kissed me with so much force and certainty it stole the air from my lungs. I clung to her, breathless, wanting more.
She pressed me back against the desk, guiding me until we were eye-level. I tugged her closer by her belt loops, capturing her mouth again.
“God, I’m so glad you’re not mad at me anymore,” Avalon laughed against my lips, fingers working at the buttons of her black corset vest. She’d insisted on the shirt-vest-pants combo instead of a dress—and I hated how much I loved it.
“You are one special girl, Clarke King,” she murmured, sliding her arms free of her shirt leaving her bare chested because of course Avalon Kennedy didn’t believe in under garments.
She moved forward and I slid back, confusion growing when she cocked her head to the side with a slight pull of her brows.
“Don’t go anywhere, Texas.” Avalon pulled me back into place so we were chest to chest, me still on the desk, her just millimeters away from me.
I tossed my head back with a laugh. “You have to stop with that nickname, especially in moments like these.”
Avalon was moving slower to me, a hungry look in her grey eyes. “And what kind of moment is this?”
My breathing hitched as her hands traveled gently up my thigh, I had been too busy laughing about the stupid things she calls me to notice she had even had a hand up my dress.
Her fingers were cool and light against my skin, sending rows of shivers down my spine. I looked down at where they made contact with my skin only for my chin to be caught by her fingers.
“I want you to look at me, baby, and I want you to keep looking at me, can you do that?”
Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I nodded. Avalon smiled with satisfaction and traced the plains of my face with a gentle finger.
“You listen very well,” her words were dripping with the same pride that was coursing through my body. Arousal pooled between my legs, seeping through my underwear and running down my legs.
A whimper escaped my lips when Avalon’s slim fingers brushed my sensitive clit, and I grabbed her arm for support.
Automatically, my eyes dropped to her hand only for Avalon’s other hand to catch my chin. “What did I say?”
I swallowed, trying to keep my eyes steady. Keep my eyes on her, that’s what she said. Did she want me to say it? Out loud?
Avalon ran her thumb over my bottom lip before placing a delicate kiss on it. “I told you we were going to work on your stage fright, King.” She pulled away and I whimpered.
“Use your words.” Her other hand was back between my thighs, drawing circles in my arousal. “Use your words like a big girl.” Avalon pulled away until she was able to look down at me and tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind my ear.
“What did I say?”
If there was a competition between which was drier: the Sahara desert or my throat, my throat would win. No matter how many times I swallowed or wet my lips, I was still parched.
“Keep my eyes—“
Avalon slid one finger inside me and satisfaction gleamed in her eyes when I gasped. There was something else in her irises—a challenge. She was daring me to drop her gaze, to look away.
What would she do to me if I did?
“—On you.”
There was a second finger, and then a third. With each finger, each pass across my clit, I never dropped her gaze. She was testing me, watching to see if I would obey or if I would give in and shut my eyes or drop her gaze.
The mischievous look in her eyes was replaced with what I imagine was pride and Avalon ran her tongue over her lips.
“Did I tell you how well you listen?” Yeah, she was definitely proud.
With a vigorous nod, I steadied myself with one hand on the desk and with the other I took one of Avalon’s taut nipples between my fingers.
The other girl’s head dropped back with a low, “Fuck.”
Lowering my head, I swept my tongue across the hard area, taking pleasure in her low moans. Rocking my hips back and forth, I rode Avalon’s fingers, digging my own into her skin, trying to pull her closer to me.
I tugged and pulled, pawed and rode until I felt the pressure buildup in my lower abdomen. I was so close to climaxing, so close to tipping over the edge.
There was a knock on the door and the sound of metal hitting each other as whoever was on the other side tried prying their way in.
“Clarke?”
Fuck, it was Delia. This had to put me somewhere high on the list of bad friends—right under the entirety of Andy’s friends from The Devil Wears Prada.
With a swift turn of her head, Avalon called out before Delia had the chance to open the door completely.
“Give us a moment, she’s coming.” She smirked at her joke and looked back to me, bending down to bite my neck. “Or she could stay and watch, I don’t mind.”
“Avalon!” I gasped, finally finding my voice. “I’ll be right out, Delia!” Turning my attention back to Avalon, I scowled. “I can’t believe you would suggest such a thing, sex in public is one thing, letting my best friend watch is another.”
With a quick peck to my cheek, Avalon detangled herself from me and shrugged. “It’s not so bad, it makes it more fun if we’re being honest.”
I picked up my discarded underwear and slid them over my hips before pulling my dress back into place.
“I think what we’re doing now is fun, don’t you?”
Avalon finished buttoning her shirt and combed her fingers through her hair. “I think anything with you would be fun.”
My face grew hot and I looked away, tucking a hair behind my ear. It was too easy for her to get to me, my body so readily reacted to her every word and action.
“So you really want to be here with me. Mood swings and snotty noses crying and all?” I pointed to the desk behind.
“It’s not just some ploy to get back into my pants in almost public spaces?
”I’d be a fool to say the thought hadn’t crossed my mind while she was fucking me, but I hadn’t wanted to let it ruin the moment.
Pulling her brows into a thin line, Avalon closed the distance between us and placed her hands on my waist. “I would be lying if I didn’t enjoy this benefit of you no longer wanting to hurt me, but no, Clarke; I really truly want to know you, to be known by you.”
She smiled softly and I did the same. “Someone’s got to take care of Clarke King, and I think it would be the privilege of a lifetime to spend the rest of mine trying.”
I looped my arms around her neck, closing the already small distance between us. “How have you never written your own music before? You’re a natural poet, Avalon Kennedy.”
A blush crept across the other girl’s face as she smiled. “Only when I’m around you it seems.”