✧･Chapter 32 I Love You
"That was... easily the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life," I murmur, my fingers tracing slow, absent patterns along Claire's back as she rests against me, her face tucked into my neck.
She lets out a quiet laugh, her breath warm against my skin as she shifts slightly, like she's trying to shake her head but doesn't have the energy to fully commit to it.
"There's no way that was your first time," she says after a second, her voice a little rough, a little breathless still.
I let out a small huff of a laugh, my eyes slipping closed for a moment as everything replays whether I want it to or not - the sounds, the way she looked, the way she felt.
"You did most of the work," I admit softly.
There's a pause, and then she exhales, something almost disbelieving in it.
"I should be embarrassed," she mutters.
My eyes open immediately at that, my hand stilling against her back. "Why would you be?"
She lifts her head just enough to look at me, her expression caught somewhere between amused and a little undone. "Because I've never," she cuts herself off with a quiet breath, then shakes her head slightly. "That's never happened that fast for me."
That makes me blink up at her, caught completely off guard. "I... how?"
Claire laughs softly at that, pushing herself up, and I can't help the way my attention follows her as she sits back, settling over me again. There's no hesitation in her anymore, no second-guessing in the way she looks at me, and it does something to my chest I can't quite explain.
"Because," she starts, one brow lifting slightly, "I was trying to tell you to slow down."
My face heats instantly.
"But you," she continues, her mouth twitching, "decided not to listen at all."
"I didn't decide anything," I protest, even though I can hear how weak it sounds the second it leaves my mouth.
Her hands settle lightly against my stomach, grounding and distracting all at once. "Mae."
I groan softly, dragging a hand over my face for half a second before letting it fall back beside me. "I couldn't help it, okay? Can you blame me?" I glance back up at her, my voice quieter now, more honest. "I didn't know what I was doing, I just..."
I stop myself, but it's too late.
Her expression softens immediately. "Just what?" She asks, not teasing this time.
I hesitate, my throat tightening slightly, because saying it out loud feels like admitting something bigger than I meant to.
"I just wanted to make you feel good," I admit finally, softer than before. "I wanted to be the one doing that for you."
Something shifts in her face at that, and her hand comes up, brushing lightly along my jaw before she leans down just enough to press a slower, softer kiss to my lips.
"You did," she murmurs against my mouth. "Trust me."
That does absolutely nothing to help the heat already sitting under my skin. I let out a quiet breath, my hand finding her waist again, a little more sure this time. "Good," I whisper, almost to myself.
She huffs a quiet laugh, her forehead resting against mine for a moment. "You're dangerous, you know that?"
I blink up at her. "Me?"
"Yes, you," she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You act all shy and unsure and then," she gestures vaguely between us, clearly meaning everything that just happened.
I groan again, dropping my head back against the pillow. "Okay, in my defense-"
"There is no defense," she cuts in, amused.
I peek back up at her, narrowing my eyes slightly. "You weren't complaining."
She smiles wider at that. "No," she admits softly. "I wasn't."
I hesitate for a second before speaking again, my fingers absentmindedly tracing along her side like I need something to do with the nerves still buzzing under my skin.
"Can I ask you something?" I murmur.
Claire huffs a quiet, amused breath against me, already half-smiling like she knows exactly what this is.
"I'm serious," I say, nudging her lightly with my knee.
That softens her tone immediately. "Okay," she says, lifting her head just enough to look at me. "Ask."
I swallow, suddenly a little more aware of how new all of this is for me, how much I don't know.
"Does it always feel like that?" I ask quietly. "Or is that just because it's you? Or because it's me? I don't-" I exhale, a small, awkward laugh slipping out. "I don't even know how to ask that properly."
"It depends," she says finally, her voice softer now. "On the person. On how comfortable you are. On how much you want them."
Her fingers trail lightly along my arm as she speaks, grounding, steady. "It doesn't always feel like that," she says finally, her voice softer than before.
My brows knit slightly, and she glances away for just a second, like she's debating how honest to be, then looks back at me.
"Sometimes you're there physically," she continues, her fingers absentmindedly tracing along my arm, "but your head's somewhere else. Or your heart is."
Something about the way she says it makes my chest tighten.
"You can be with someone," she adds, quieter now, "and still feel disconnected. Like you're going through the motions instead of actually feeling it."
That lands heavier than I expect, because that doesn't sound hypothetical. That sounds lived in.
My hand stills against her side. "You've felt like that before?" I ask, softer now.
Claire goes still for a second. "Yeah," she says after a moment, her voice quieter than it's been this whole time.
Something about that makes my chest ache a little.
"Why?" I ask before I can stop myself. "I mean..." I shake my head slightly, trying to explain. "You're you. How does anyone make you feel like that?"
That gets a small breath of a laugh out of her, but it's not really amused.
"It's not about them being bad," she says. "It's just..." she pauses, searching for the words, "when your head is stuck somewhere else, it doesn't really matter who you're with."
My stomach drops slightly at that.
"Stuck where?" I ask, even though something in me already knows the answer.
Claire's eyes lift back to mine, and this time, she doesn't hesitate.
"With you."
The words hit harder than anything else she's said tonight.
"I tried," she continues, her voice steady but soft. "I really did. I was with people, I went out, I..." she exhales lightly, shaking her head. "But none of it ever felt right. Because it wasn't you."
I can't say anything. I don't even think I'm breathing at this point.
"So yeah," she finishes quietly, her gaze holding mine, "it can feel empty if it's not with the person you actually want."
My chest feels tight in a completely different way now, something warm and overwhelming building under my ribs.
"I don't want you to ever feel like that again." I whisper, my hand trailing up her arm softly.
"I didn't tonight." She whispers back, a small smile on her lips.
"I want you to feel this way every night." I say back, my voice small.
"That's a lot of sex, even for me." Claire says as she laughs and I roll my eyes.
"Shut up, you know what I mean." I say, pouting slightly.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"I mean..." I whisper, but the words stall out halfway.
I shift slightly, pushing myself upright against the headboard, and Claire adjusts with me without even thinking about it - still in my lap, still close, her arms sliding up around my neck like that's just where they belong now.
She looks at me, waiting, and somehow that makes it worse. Because the words are there, but they feel stuck.
Claire tilts her head slightly, studying my face like she can see it happening in real time.
"Mae," she murmurs, softer this time, her hand coming up to rub gently at the back of my neck. "What do you mean?"
I let out a quiet breath, my eyes closing for a second as my head tips back against the wall.
And then I just let it out. "I want more."
Her hand stills, not pulling away. Just stopping. I open my eyes again, looking back at her, trying to read her expression, but I can't quite place it.
"What?" She asks.
"I want more," I repeat, quieter now, but steadier.
"Mae-" she starts.
I shake my head, my gaze dropping for a second. "I know. I know what we said, about taking it slow."
I take a breath, trying to keep my voice even. She shifts slightly, pushing herself up just enough so she can see me better, her weight still resting against me, grounding but searching.
"Then what do you mean?" She asks.
I look back at her. "I mean I don't want to pretend this is something it's not," I say. "I don't want to act like this is casual, or temporary, or something we need to ease into like we don't already know each other."
Something in her expression softens at that.
"I know you," I continue, quieter now, but more certain. "Not just now. Not just tonight. I've known you for years and I've loved you for years."
That lands and I can see it.
"And yeah," I add, a small, nervous smile pulling at my mouth, "maybe we skipped a few steps."
Claire lets out a quiet breath, something amused flickering through her expression.
"Yeah," she murmurs. "Maybe."
"But I don't want to go backwards," I say softly.
That pulls her attention right back to me.
"Mae," she starts carefully. "You knew a different me. That was what? Six, seven years ago? We're not the same people we were back then."
I can't help the soft laugh that slips out as my hands move to her hips, squeezing lightly.
"I mean, yeah," I say, rolling my eyes a little. "You're right."
She raises a brow like she's waiting for the rest of that.
"But you're also wrong," I add, looking back at her.
She narrows her eyes slightly, already about to argue, but I cut her off before she can.
"You're still you," I say. "There's just, more of you now. Stuff I haven't gotten to know yet."
She goes quiet, so I keep going.
"You still drink your coffee like it's straight sugar with a splash of caffeine," I mumble, a small smile forming. "It's actually disgusting, by the way."
That earns me the faintest twitch of her lips.