Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALEJANDRA
“Clara!” I call from the kitchen, where my grandma and I have been waiting for the past half hour, ready for breakfast. But Clara’s too embarrassed to show her face.
I’ve knocked on our bedroom door twice already, trying to coax her out, but she won’t budge.
Honestly, I didn’t want to face my grandma, either, but we have to be at my sister’s for the second round of dance practice in two hours, and I couldn’t put it off any longer. Plus, the bacon she was frying smelled delicious, and my belly was rumbling.
Somehow, facing my grandma was easier than pretending Clara’s desperate need to masturbate to Olivia wasn’t making me want to crawl out of my skin.
“Should I go get her?” Lala asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll do it.”
I walk toward our room and swing the door open, ready to drag Clara out of bed if I have to, but the bed is empty. And the room smells faintly of Clara’s body wash. Bergamot and sandalwood.
The bathroom door swings open, and Clara walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped snugly around her. When her eyes land on me, she freezes.
My mouth goes dry, and a sharp breath catches in my throat. Heat coils low in my stomach, spreading like wildfire through my limbs. My legs twitch with the urge to move, to close the space between us, to pull her in and kiss her until we’re breathless, and my mouth aches with the intensity.
“Yes?” Clara says, tentatively stepping closer.
I step back, worried that having her so close will make my knees feel weaker than they already do. “We need to go soon,” I say through a thick swallow.
My gaze falls to her mouth. Soft, pink, and impossibly tempting. I immediately regret not kissing her yesterday, because right now, all I want is to feel her lips against mine.
“I’ll be ready in ten,” Clara smiles nervously as she stands so close to me I can feel the heat of her shower against my skin.
I nod, completely breathless.
“Anything else?” Clara asks as she watches me intensely.
But I can’t focus on a single word, because all it would take for us to kiss is one slight movement. If I leaned in, our lips would meet.
But I don’t. Olivia’s unfairly perfect face comes to mind. I’m not the one Clara wants to kiss. I’m not the one who has her sneaking out of bed, desperate to satisfy some overwhelming need.
I shake my head and clear my throat, trying to regain a semblance of composure.
Clara gives me a tight-lipped smile and turns, but without thinking, I reach out and catch her hand. The moment my skin meets hers, heat sparks beneath my fingers. I close my eyes, feeling her ignite under my touch.
When I open my eyes, Clara is staring at my hand around her wrist. Her towel has fallen just a tad, showing more of her chest, which makes me feel like I could faint.
I force my eyes to her face, to peel themselves off of her cleavage, but it’s hard.
All I can think about is the tattoo peeking from her sternum, the one burned into my memory.
I know it so well, not just because I was there when she got it, but because part of it is mine.
My hand trembled as I drew tiny hearts on her skin, guided by her tattoo artist. I remember Clara looking down at me, smiling, her eyes locked on mine while I tried not to mess up her tattoo.
Now, all I want is for her towel to be on the floor so I can press my lips to that exact spot.
“Yes?” Clara asks with concern, and I silently kick myself.
“Are we okay?” I ask, unsure where the question came from.
“What? Yes, of course,” she says, immediately stepping closer. “Why wouldn’t we be?” For the first time in our entire friendship, she hesitates. Clara is never nervous. But right now, it’s written all over her face.
“I don’t know,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “Just . . . general anxiety, I guess. We didn’t get a chance to talk about what happened at Diana’s, and I was worried maybe things would be weird between us.”
Clara steps in closer, pulling me into a tight hug.
The second her arms wrap around me, I feel a wave of relief as all the tension I’d been carrying starts to melt.
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Clara says softly.
“No, you didn’t. It’s me. I was overthinking.” I know it’s not her fault. My brain tends to spiral.
“Still,” she says, pulling back enough to meet my eyes, “I’m sorry about yesterday. About almost kissing you. I don’t know what came over me. If it made you uncomfortable—”
“No,” I blurt out, cutting her off. “Please don’t apologize,” I say, my heart pounding, because I know that if Valeria hadn’t interrupted, I would have closed the gap entirely.
“I should be apologizing to you,” I say. My fingers twitch at my sides, and I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes.
She reaches for my face and cups my chin, stepping a little closer. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” she says, her eyes steady on mine. She wraps her hands around my waist, and my eyes flutter shut as a heady rush swirls in my chest.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears as my stomach twists with need.
Clara is impossibly close; I can feel the heat of her skin, and my own aches as her lips brush against my cheek.
So close, but not quite where I desperately wish they were.
Still, the softness of them, the smell of her, sparks a deep want as everything in my body is tuned into her.
But the moment is over before I can process the loss. Before I can even open my eyes, Clara’s already disappeared into her closet, leaving me aching. My breath comes out ragged and uneven. My body is on fire as I press my fingers to the spot where Clara’s lips were.
I try not to think about it for the next hour as I get ready and set up my camera equipment to take a few pictures today, but it’s impossible not to. Did Clara feel it, too? That tug, that heat? Is that why she pulled away so quickly? Was she as shaken by it? Or am I overthinking?.
Lala, Clara, and I arrive at Diana’s house fifteen minutes early, which I’m glad for, as it gives me time to grab a drink and brace myself for seeing Clara with Olivia.
Clara and I head into the kitchen while Lala walks deeper into the house, searching for Diana.
I keep stealing glances at Clara while she prepares our mimosas, trying to figure out if the tension between us was real or if it was all in my head.
She moves with that effortless cool she always has, which only makes me doubt myself more.
But every so often, her eyes catch mine, and in those moments, there’s a spark. It can’t just be me.
Valeria walks in, scanning the room until her eyes land on us. She smiles.
“Morning,” she says, taking a seat beside me.
“Morning,” Clara and I say in unison.
I glance over at her, and a shy smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it.
“How’s work been?” Valeria asks, looking between Clara and me.
“Same, same,” I reply. “You?”
Valeria blows out a raspberry. “Work’s been so busy lately.” She runs a hand through her hair. “It’s the end of kitten season, so strays are getting dropped off at the clinic all day, every day.”
“Has Brooke shown up uninvited again? Have you talked to her since the last time you saw her?” Clara asks, trying to contain her annoyance.
Valeria glances at us, her expression almost guilty as she shakes her head. But the tension around her shoulders gives her away. She’s back with her ex.
Clara and I exchange a look, but before either of us can say anything, Diana’s voice calls from the other room, “Clara! Could you come here?”
Clara glances over, then gives me a quick, apologetic smile. “Duty calls,” she says, before walking off.
Valeria’s eyes linger on me for a beat after Clara leaves, then she leans in slightly, voice dropping to a murmur. “Okay, spill—what’s that all about?”
I want to steer the conversation back to Brooke, but I don’t know how without upsetting her.
Every time I’ve tried bringing up how toxic this thing with Brooke is, it’s turned into an argument, so I’ve learned to pick my battles.
When Brooke’s love bombing is fresh, it’s nearly impossible to get through to Valeria. So instead, I play along.
“What was all what about?” I ask.
“Oh, don’t give me that,” Valeria teases as she lightly bumps her shoulder into mine. “I can feel the tension all over you guys,” she adds, dramatically swatting the air.
“It’s nothing.”
“No, it’s definitely something. I walk in on you guys making out yesterday, and now you’re all shy and cutesy, more cutesy than ever before, and you’re trying to tell me it’s nothing? I don’t buy it.” She crosses her arms, waiting for me to give in.
“We were not making out,” I say, my cheeks warm at the thought. “We almost kissed.”
“I knew it! I knew this whole faking it thing would turn real.”
“Oh my God, it’s not turning real! It was a moment. Nothing more,” I lie.
“Mhmm,” Valeria says, side-eyeing me. “I’m sure you’ve both found a way to convince yourselves into thinking that.”
But before I can reply, before I can ask what she means by that, Diana’s voice slices through the house. “Time to practice,” she shouts, and we all head toward the living room where she’s already moved the furniture to make space.
Everyone pairs off with their partner, and I take a few pictures of the dancers waltzing.
Like yesterday, I’m a little too focused on Clara and Olivia, watching them through the lens of my camera, taking note of every time Olivia laughs at something Clara says. I know she’s funny, but damn.
Clara’s hand is on the small of her back, while Olivia’s got her hands laced together around Clara’s neck, and my heart feels like it’s stuck in a fist.
“You okay?” Valeria says, standing next to me, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“Oh, yeah,” I lie. I guess I’m not being as subtle as I was yesterday.