9. Claire
9
Claire
Fluttering Butterflies
Where did Bobby disappear to?
We’ve made it a habit to tell the other person when we have reasons to step out of the mansion so I know pretty well he’s around here somewhere. I’ve checked a couple of the living rooms downstairs, but he’s not there.
Just as I'm about to give up and head back to my room, I bump into Maggie.
"Good evening, Miss Claire,” she smiles kindly at me. "Looking for someone?"
"Yes. Have you seen Bobby? I haven't been able to find him anywhere."
She points down a hallway. “He might be in the annex living room. I saw him walk in earlier."
I thank her and head towards the annex. Pushing open the door, I find him curled up on one of the plush sofas, legs drawn up to his chest, reading a book. He stares intently at the fireplace, a flickering fire casting dancing shadows across his face.
"Been looking all over for you."
He turns towards me. "Hey," he mumbles, a smile playing on his lips.
"Hey yourself," I cross my arms. “Why are you here? I spent the last hour searching for you."
He raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Missing me already, are you?"
"As if," I roll my eyes, but a warmth spreads through my chest at his teasing. “Just making sure you haven't gotten lost in this maze. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
He grins sheepishly. “No ladies stuff this evening from Mimi?”
“No.” I mumble. “Besides, I want to spend time with you today.”
"Oh, really?" His gaze holds mine. “What do you have in mind?”
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but I’m buzzing inside about him also wanting to spend time together. “Movie? It's been ages since we last saw one together."
“Oh, yeah.” A tinge of amusement crosses his face. “I’ll never forget the day I ate soggy and salty popcorn."
“Hey!" I swat his arm. "There’s no need to bring that up."
“You cried so much that your tears, and probably some snot, seeped into the popcorn bowl. A touch of extra salt. I might have gagged a little. The worst!” He throws his head back and laughs.
The memory of that movie night is still vividly etched in my mind. I'd sobbed uncontrollably into the popcorn bowl, tears blurring my vision, and how Bobby, aiming to steal some of my popcorn after finishing his had grabbed slimy, tear-soaked popcorn and popped into his mouth before I could warn him.
“It was a heartbreaking movie, Bobby. Women, no, more like humans, cry when they’re sad, you know.”
"Come on, Claire," he teases. “That movie wasn't even that sad."
I narrow my eyes. “Only a psychopath says, ‘ The Fault In Our Stars’ isn’t sad."
I briefly consider checking Bobby for other psychopathic tendencies. Does he roll his eyes at ASPCA commercials? Does he eat cereal with water instead of milk? I do have to make sure he’s not absolutely insane.
Bobby raises his hand in mock surrender. “Okay," he nods, a playful glint in his eyes. “I plan to show you what a good movie looks like today.
Just as he reaches for the remote, I swipe it out of his reach.
"I pick the movie, Bobby."
He squeezes his face. “No way am I subjecting myself to a two-hour-long tearjerker filled with sappy dialogue and predictable plot twists."
I gasp dramatically, clutching a hand to my chest. “How dare you?" I exclaim, my voice dripping with mock offense. “Romantic dramas are the cornerstone of cinema! They speak to the very core of the human experience!"
He shakes his head. “Give me the remote. No way I’m doing romance tonight. I want some action.”
His hand shoots out, snatching the remote from my grasp. I launch myself at him, stretching to my full length as he leans back on the sofa. Less than a second later, I find myself on top of him.
The contact sends a jolt of electricity surging through me, igniting a spark that sets off a whirlwind of butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach.
The air whooshes out of my lungs and I lie there for a moment, our bodies pressed together in a strangely intimate way. Our gazes lock. His blue eyes are intense, the earlier amusement replaced by a heat that sends tingles down my spine. I can feel them spreading within every nerve in my body. Suddenly, it’s as if I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
This is no longer a game.
“Claire.” His voice is soft as he calls my name.
He doesn’t speak the words, but I can hear the question behind the tone. I can see it in the passion behind his eyes. My heart hammers a frantic drumbeat against my ribs.
At that moment, all rational thought seems to flee my mind. Driven by a sudden need, I lean closer, giving him my answer as the space between our lips shrinks with every passing second.
I close the gap. Our lips meet in a hot, desperate kiss. He takes charge immediately, pressing his palm to the side of my face, the ridge of his nose brushing mine as he takes my lips. My mouth parts, ready for him, welcoming him, letting his tongue delve in to explore.
I close my eyes and sigh into the kiss. Finally, I’ve craved this since the night of the party. I’ve dreamt of it, but the dreams fall short of reality.
He tastes so good that I feel I might lose control. I place a hand on his shoulder. He responds by sliding his fingers into my hair. I’m getting sucked into his world, every part of my body responding to him. Every nerve is on fire.
I don’t want this to stop. I can’t get enough.
“Wow! Wow!”
The voice shatters the heated moment. We both jump apart as if struck by lightning. My cheeks burn as I scramble off of Bobby's chest. He grabs my hand, holding me by his side as my heart hammers a frantic tattoo against my ribs.
The voice is Mike’s. Across the room, he’s standing at the doorway with Fiona, and her fiancé, Danny. Their expressions range from confusion to outright shock.
Mike has his usual smug smile, Fiona’s mouth is open as a silent gasp settles while taking in the scene, and me, flustered and disheveled with Bobby—his hair entirely mussed.
Danny stands beside Fiona, his expression as unreadable as always.
Seconds tick by and the silence already feels like it’s stretching for an eternity. I can see the unspoken questions on Mike’s face and the absolute rage on Fiona’s face.
Finally, Mike breaks the ice with a nervous chuckle. "No wonder I felt heat coming from this side of the house."
Fiona throws him a withering look. “Honestly, Mike it’s not funny." She scoffs, then turns back to us. “You two know we also have kids in the house, right? Stop shoving your PDA down people’s throats! That's why you guys have your own suite."
Mike scratches the back of his head. “It’s not that much of a big deal, Fiona.”
“Yes, it is!” She shouts, her face squeezed in jealousy. “You guys make me sick.”
She turns around and storms out of the room, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste.
“I’m sorry,” Danny mouths at us, looking sheepish and apologetic as he hurries after her, calling her name.
“I’ll be leaving, too,” Mike mumbles. “And I’ll close the door after me, just in case.”
He retreats quickly, leaving only Bobby and I in the room. Bobby clears his throat, his gaze flicking nervously across my face.
“I hope Fiona doesn’t fall down the stairs in those heels,” he teases. “We must’ve really shocked her. Her face was so red.”
We both burst into laughter. I grab my abdomen, letting the joy spill out as I remember the look on Fiona’s face. As the laughter fades, a comfortable silence fills the room. After all these years, I’ve finally gotten my revenge for how she treated me—only this time, it’s sweetened by the genuine affection I feel for a man I truly long for. It’s a depth of emotion that Fiona, I suspect, has never experienced, not even with Danny.
Bobby reaches for the remote on the coffee table, his fingers brushing against mine as he picks it up. A subtle spark radiates through me, bringing back the euphoria of the kiss we just shared.
"So," Bobby begins, his voice strained. “Uh…movie night still on?"
I stare at him, my mind in a daze. So, we’re not going to talk about what just happened? And more importantly, what does it mean?
I catch a moment of vulnerability in his eyes reflecting the turmoil I feel.
“Yeah, I’ll let you choose the movie.”
“Thanks,” he says, smiling softly.
My heart is still racing a mile a minute and my head is swimming with confusion. I've always told myself that Bobby wasn't my type. So why, then, do I feel this undeniable pull towards him? Why did that kiss, and all the other kisses, feel so… perfect ?
I glance at him again, his gaze meeting mine. His eyes are a swirling blue ocean, unreadable yet somehow inviting. A million questions churn in my mind, but none of them are clear enough to voice right now.
Why did he kiss me? Does he feel the same blinding passion that’s burning through me? Is he as confused by this as I am? He has to be, right?
What if I ask him and he says he did it just because the opportunity presented itself, and he’s a guy so he took it? What if he doesn’t share this same feeling? That would break my heart.
The look in his eyes suggests that he’s not ready to talk about this yet. Should I wait, or push for answers now?
What if I don’t get the answers I want?
I close my eyes and drag in a calming breath.
Take it easy, girl. Take it easy.
Maybe my questions can wait. Maybe all we need right now is a little peace and quiet, a chance to sort through the jumbled mess of emotions swirling inside both of us.
With a tired sigh, I sink back onto the couch, my gaze drifting towards the crackling fire in the fireplace. Bobby doesn't say anything, but he settles down next to me, a decent distance separating our bodies.
I put my head on his shoulder, the silence stretches on between us as we watch lights flicker on the screen.
As the fire crackles and pops, and the images on the screen cast dancing shadows across the room, I can't help but wonder where this feeling will take us next. The line between pretend and reality doesn’t seem to exist anymore, and I'm not sure if I should be scared or excited.
All I know for certain is that things have irrevocably changed between Bobby and me. And turning back now will be hard. A tiny, traitorous voice whispers in the back of my head.
Maybe you don’t want to turn back now.