“Hi,” Sophie called from the kitchen.
“Smells like fried chicken and mashed potatoes.” Ian joined us from the living room, obviously drawn by the smell rather than by our voices.
“Hi, Adam,” Sophie welcomed me.
It was good to see her with Ian, who was setting the table and handed us drinks. They seemed to work together so well, and the emotions floating between them were so harmonious. If I hadn’t known Dad and Jenna, this would seem to be the ideal state for any couple.
“If your sister is as thorough with studying recipes as she is with anatomy, the chances are high this will be excellent.”
Claire chuckled as I whispered my comment in her ear while Sophie and Ian were busy handling the dishes.
“How was school today?” Ian asked over the table, almost the way my father would ask me.
It was only then that I appreciated how much Sophie had been doing for Claire. She had taken the responsibility for her little sister after their parents’ death and she had done so well. Seeing her taking care of Claire like a mother and Ian slipping into the father role so easily, made me wonder how Jenna felt about getting me as an extra-feature when she married my dad…
Claire cringed in her chair and gasped as she burnt her mouth on a piece of chicken. Under a layer of physical pain, it was clear she was uncomfortable about Sophie’s question, probably elaborating in her thoughts about Sporty and his feelings for her.
I put a glass of water into her hand and waited until she’d drained it and the sensation from the fried meat had left her completely before I relaxed. Her pain hurt me, too. It was difficult to watch.
“It was pretty boring.”
There was something about the way she said it that made it clear she was limiting the answer to at school, excluding after school events.
“A bit more enthusiasm, please!” Ian’s face again had that expression that made me feel like I was facing Claire’s parents rather than her sister and her sister’s boyfriend. Weird.
“Ian and I are off to classes after dinner. Could you wash the dishes and clean up?”
Claire nodded at Sophie’s question and creased her forehead like a reluctant teenager.
“I’ll help you,” I offered, actually looking forward to finally being able to help with something. She hadn’t taken me up on my offer to assist her with studying for history classes and it still bothered me that she had preferred to let Sporty help her.
“Don’t you have classes this evening?” Sophie asked with a frown and a tone which let me guess that she’d rather I did. Like a mother worrying over her daughter… I stifled a laugh and shook my head, grateful for not having to answer in words. The changing mood rising in Claire at the prospect of being alone together for the evening would have made any spoken answer sound shaky. It was as if the room temperature had risen to sub-tropical.
Sophie shot me a warning look I was certain Claire didn’t see and Ian watched Sophie from the side as if wondering if he should say anything. The truth was, neither could forbid me anything. It was Claire whose opinion mattered, and I had to find out which direction she wanted our relationship to go.
With a glance to the side, I was swallowed by a spring tide of love, and there was something else mixing into it with a clarity I hadn’t perceived from Claire until now. It was the desire to be with me physically. It sent a shiver down my body and I folded my arms across my chest, bracing myself against her allure.
Trying to hold myself in place and not react to her train of thoughts—emotions—all at once, I focused on Sophie and Ian as they finished their meals, grabbed their things, and rushed toward the front door.
“See you tonight,” Claire called after her sister as if to confirm she hadn’t forgotten our alone time would end when they returned.
The moment I heard the front door click, I jumped to my feet and started loading the dishwasher, glad to have something to do and not have to immediately react to the way the thought of having Claire to myself all evening made me feel. But I couldn’t help noticing that she had become even more attractive, just because of the emotional layer which was enveloping her right now. It was almost impossible to not stare.
“You are extraordinarily beautiful today,” I voiced my thoughts in a harmless phrase as I stopped for a second and watched her scrub the saucepan, and was surprised that now it seemed to be not only me who was hyper-aware of what Sophie and Ian’s absence could mean for us.
Claire didn’t speak as I stood behind her and laid my hands on her shoulders, grazing the soft skin on her neck with my lips. The smell of her hair was wonderful, a hint of berries and wildflowers. I closed my eyes and inhaled until something warm and wet hit my arm.
“Claire, love,” I got her attention back to the present. Water was splattering from the saucepan onto her clothes, soaking them and spilling onto the floor.
Claire jumped and grabbed the dishtowel and was working on damage control while I stepped in to finish the dishes.
“Thank you.” There was frustration in her voice and I wondered why that was as she ran off to her room to change.
Was there something wrong, or was it just the fact that she had to get fresh clothes? I couldn’t tell and her footsteps as she headed up the stairs, taking two at a time, didn’t help in figuring it out either.
It was difficult to focus on the saucepan when my instincts wanted me to help take that wet stuff off of her. So, I decided to set the last few dishes aside and try to figure out what was going on.
“Come in!” her muffled voice called as I knocked a minute later.
As I stuck my head in through the partially opened door, my heart almost stopped. Not in a bad way where you had to worry about needing to resuscitate someone, but in the good way which created a pause long enough to make the heart double its speed right after.
Claire was a vision, stuck in a wet shirt which clung to her skin and exposed the outline of a dark bra underneath. Her hair was wild and gave me ideas about what I would want to do if I brushed it aside from her shoulders and neck.
“What?” she responded to my bemused smile, all defensive.
I swallowed and tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence. “Well…this,” I gestured at her shirt and hair, “looks good on you.” The smile on my lips grew wider as she grabbed her stomach in a flash of self-consciousness.
“It makes you sexy,” I clarified before she could make any wrong interpretations of what I meant and wasn’t surprised as she threw me a look that suggested I might have lost my mind. She truly had no idea how tempting she was. No wonder Sporty was after her. Probably half the male student-body of Aurora High was. I simply had to let her know how attractive she was to me. “Really. Wow.”
Claire turned to check her reflection in the mirror and if I hadn’t been able to perceive how her state of mind went from disbelief to surprise to acceptance, it would still have been visible in her eyes how she realized I was right, and a smile brightened her face.
I gave her all the time she needed to see herself clearly. How could a young woman as beautiful as Claire so completely underestimate the effect she had on guys?
Her face became unreadable and there was a hint of concern hanging in the room, mixed with a heat-wave of desire. I leaned against her desk so as not to be thrown over by my own emotions.
“What do you think?” I asked, simply to fill the silence. I knew where we would end up if I steered things the right direction, and I was a little scared I might push her into something she wasn’t ready for.
Claire looked up at me, lips curved into a seductive smile before she turned and pulled up her shirt. “I think I need to get out of this wet shirt before I get cold.”
I had less than a second if I wanted this to happen. I knew I wanted her, I wanted to feel her, breathe her…but not if she wasn’t ready for it and right now it seemed like for her it might be just the heat of the moment, the window of opportunity while Sophie was gone…
“No.”
Before I could make a conscious decision, my hand grabbed hers and held it in place, preventing it from exposing more of that pale, silky skin. It was clear, she was too precious. “I’ll wait outside.”
Frustration rolled through the room once more and caught me off guard, almost knocking me off my feet. I looked at her face to confirm I was right with what I perceived from her. It was there, clearly written in her eyes, I had finally messed up the moment for good.
“Why are you so upset?”
There were wet streaks on her cheeks, tears I had put there even though my intentions had been quite the opposite. I had hoped to protect her from rushing into something. I wiped them away with my fingers.
“What did I do?” I gave her an opportunity to scold me, and God knows I deserved it.
In my attempt to be responsible, I had made her cry. There was embarrassment hanging in the room. Was she uncomfortable crying in front of me after all we’d been through? The room most certainly felt like it.
“Please, tell me.”
“Nothing.” Her whole body was shaking as she sobbed.
“What makes you cry, honey?” Was it wrong of me to make her admit it when I could already tell from reading her emotions that she was feeling rejected? I justified my question with the fact that I knew she did feel that way, but not exactly why.
“You don’t want me.” She didn’t meet my eyes for longer than a second as she accused me of the most absurd thing I had ever heard.
“Why would you think that? I love you. You can’t imagine how much you mean to me,” I corrected her, still chuckling.
“But you …p..prefer our …s..staircase to seeing me un..d..dress.”
I couldn’t hold back laughter. This girl was eloquent, even when she was dissolving in tears.
“What’s so funny now?” This time she didn’t look away. She held my gaze as I tried to suppress my urge to burst out in laughter again.
“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen and the most wonderful person on the planet.” Why couldn’t she see that my intention had been to give her privacy so she could change her clothes? It was out of respect, not because I didn’t want her. Quite the opposite, it was because I wanted her so much that it would be difficult to see her strip out of her shirt and not get carried away.
“You can’t know, you haven’t met everybody…” Claire pursed her lips as she watched my amusement cease. “Why is it that easy for you then—not touching me?”
I raised one eyebrow at the directness of how she was suddenly addressing the topic. This was dead-serious, not just a momentary disturbance of her emotional balance. She apparently was under the impression I didn’t want to be with her—physically.
“I mean …don’t you feel the desire I feel?” Her look told me she was expecting an answer.
“If you mean feel in the sense of perceive what you feel—I do.”
“That’s not what I mean.” She took a deep breath as if to build up confidence. “Am I not desirable to you? Is that why you would rather go outside?”
Her question hung in the air for a second, demanding a declaration from my side. Now it was me who had to build up confidence. I let out the air from my lungs in a very slow breath, waiting for the tension to leave the room, but it didn’t .
“Claire, you are not only the most important person to me, you are also the most desirable woman. How can you doubt that?” Couldn't she see in each and every gesture how much she meant to me? How every fiber of my body was burning with desire to get close to her?
“Prove it!” The girlish sobbing had changed into a sudden challenging tone as she eyed me from under strands of hair, eyes sparkling, which made it even more difficult to be the responsible one.
“Claire, I just wanted to give you some privacy. And the other thing…You shouldn’t do anything because you think you have to. I want it to be your choice when it happens.” I didn’t expect anything from her. Not the slightest bit. Her mere existence was satisfying to my heart. Now that we were together, I would never feel as broken, as incomplete as I had during the time that she had already been burnt into my soul but not yet been physically present—it had been torture. “I have found you, that’s all that matters. I’ve got time…” …time to wait for you, I finished in my mind while my eyes got caught by the edge of her bed. I imagined for a brief moment what it might feel like to let her take off that shirt and pull her down onto the soft sheets. My stomach fluttered and I rested myself by focusing on the wall until I had cleared my head. When my eyes returned to meet Claire’s it was obvious she had seen the flash of imagination on my face.
“Why do you want to hurry so much?” I sounded almost accusing.
“I want to be near you, more than anything else.”
Why again was it so important to me that we waited? Ahh, yes…I wanted her to be certain that’s what she wanted.
“That doesn’t nearly describe the way I feel for you. I love you. That won’t change—your hold on me is permanent. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go.” The words slipped out just like that, and even though they were more precise than what I could have ever imagined I could verbalize my feelings for anyone, they still didn’t seem to be enough for Claire. There was a crease between her eyebrows as she gazed at me with frustration.
“Yes, but holding is not enough anymore. Kissing is fine, but still,” she paused briefly, running her hand over her wet shirt subconsciously, “I want more. Isn’t it the same for you?”
It was. She had no idea how much it was. The emotions filling the narrow space between us were almost tangible. Heat was building up inside my chest, making my pulse quicken and I was hyper-aware of Claire. Her fingers, as they were still resting on the hem of her shirt, her slender shape, exposed by the wetness of the fabric, her delicate neck and collarbone partly covered by blonde strands…my hands balled into fists, tightening around thin air in the hope to keep me in place…her lips, rosy and warm and ready to be kissed…
I shook my head at my own weakness. “Don’t you think…”
“Prove it!” Claire didn’t let me finish. She was so close all of a sudden I could feel her heart beat against my chest. The heat of her body against mine was what pushed me over the edge. She wanted to be mine. My lips searched hers and parted the second they made contact. I inhaled her breath, unwilling to move even an inch. She tasted like fire and water and had I thought before I had reached the end of the scale of what was possible, my love for her multiplied that very moment. I didn’t hold back, nor did I want her to do so.
My hands wandered down her back, tracing her spine under the moist shirt until they found the hem and pulled on it, impatient to caress her skin. Claire shivered under my touch and another wave of desire and now also pleasure rolled off her, with the effect of making my own breath stutter. I tasted her lips and parted them with the tip of my tongue, as her hands grabbed my shirt and pulled it up with an uncoordinated, nervous motion. I let go of her just long enough to let her pull it over my head and glued my lips back to hers. There was a soft sound as the shirt hit the floor behind me and then her fingertips slid over my bare chest. A sensation of pleasure surged through me, a yearning for more, and I threw my head back, letting her touch, so gentle, so unbelievably sweet, spread all across my chest. I needed to feel her…
My fingers flexed as I held still, enjoying her hands on my skin, ready to go however far she wanted. Now it was up to her. I was ready to be hers…
“I love you.” A hot, searing pain raced from my shoulders to my spine and my eyes tore open, looking at Claire for help. My back felt as if someone had just cut it open with a hot steel knife, and before I could do anything or say anything, something knocked Claire to the floor, where she remained motionless. The impact must have rendered her unconscious, but the weird thing about it was that it hurt me, too. Not in the normal areas of my body I knew, but somewhere outside those borders. Was this a new gift? Feeling people’s physical pain as well as their emotional pain?
While I was still wondering, I stumbled over something soft and white on the floor in an attempt to move toward her. It hurt again as I fell onto a feathery shape. What was going on? Between my out Claire and the throbbing in my back, there was panic rising inside of me.
I tried to get to my feet and got caught once more on the thing beneath me. What was this? Calm down, Adam. You are a rational guy, you approach difficult situations with your head. I took a deep breath and reached under my legs until my hands touched feathers. My eyes followed my fingers to a wing-like shape which was stuck under my shins. The strangest thing about it was that it wasn’t my shins that were hurting, it was the wings under me. They seemed to be attached to me in some way.
A groan caught my attention. Claire. Without thinking, I rushed toward the sound, smashing items from the shelves with my new attachments. She was laying face down, impossible to tell if she was okay.
With an act of force, I brought myself to my feet, ignoring the pain which started spreading all through my body. My arms were surprisingly strong as I lifted her onto the bed and put a pillow under her head, hoping she would wake up soon. As I looked around for a blanket, I caught my reflection in the mirror—a bright, white light in the shape of Adam Gallager with gleaming, green eyes. A pair of wings seemed to have sprouted from between my shoulder blades. I swallowed. How was this even possible?
Before I could ponder, my attention was claimed by another groan and I stumbled toward her.
“Can you hear me, Claire?” I knelt down beside her, waiting for her reaction, ready to be scorned and rejected the moment she would lay eyes on me, but her lids remained shut and her body limp.
“I’m here, Claire,” I whispered to her pale face. “Please wake up.”
As I brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead, I attempted to suppress the panic about my glowing, bright fingers and the heavy, feathery branches on my back. I shrank back toward the wall, hitting my wings on the windowsill and slumped down like a sack of potatoes. What was going on? Was I hallucinating? My rational half most certainly suggested I was, while my other half, the emotional one, had already learned better than to be able to explain everything with my head. Whether I wanted to ask the question or not, I had to: Had I suddenly transformed into a supernatural creature?
Spark Page 17
