by C. A. Harms
“Why?”
“Because she spent the entire class smiling over her shoulder at me, and when I left the building I had four texts messages from my brothers asking me since when did I have a girlfriend.”
“You poor thing.” I laughed.
“She changed her status to ‘in a relationship with Clayton Powell’ and tweeted that we were in love.”
“Seriously?” I tried to picture what girl he was referring to.
“No.” He chuckled and stepped back to stand clear of my hand as it swooped out to push him away. “But it sure was fun getting a rise out of you.”
“Why would I care if some girl was stalking you?” I backpedaled as I looked away from him. Watching him look at me with that sultry look of his was too much.
“Because you like me,” he said confidently, “even though you try so damned hard to act like you don’t.”
“You’re all right.” I shrugged as I turned back around to face the washers and reached into my pocket again like by some miracle the quarters I needed would appear.
“Forget something?” Clayton asked, stepping up closer behind me.
“I forgot my wallet at home.” I hung my head. The combination of my sleepless night, being puked on, and now this, I just wanted to crawl back into bed and forget the last twenty-four hours.
The sound of change being jingled around made me look back just as Clayton reached past me and started placing quarters into the slots of the washers.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping a friend out,” he insisted.
“But—”
“It’s just quarters, Emelie.” His body was pressed in firmly behind mine and instead of arguing with him, I concentrated on my breathing. One by one he moved along and once the quarters were all in place, he started the machines. “There, now you can sit down and relax, with a friend.”
I finally turned back around and crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here so early on a Saturday morning anyway? Don’t you frat boys usually sleep all day after recovering from partying all night?”
“I’ll have you know I was in bed just after midnight, and up at seven a.m.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.” I moved toward the chairs and sat in the first one, looking up at him and found him smiling back at me playfully. “So, coming to the laundromat was your first thought?"
“No.” He shook his head and laughed. “That was unplanned.”
“Dare I ask?”
“Ever had shaving cream put in your hand and then have someone tickle your nose?” The way he pursed his lips while awaiting my response was distracting. Realizing that I had yet to respond, I finally shook my head and he continued. “I woke up with Corbin, my brother, on one side of my bed and Jay, one of my frat brothers, on the other. They were each holding a can of shaving cream. Let’s just say that I got hosed.”
“They just sprayed you with shaving cream for no reason?”
“I never said they didn’t have a reason.” He chuckled as he hung his head for a minute before looking back up at me. “I may have waited for them to pass out last night and moved them both to the couch, side by side, well, actually face to face.” He again pursed his lips almost as if he was extremely pleased with himself. “And then I Saran wrapped them in place, just before I set up a camera to live feed the whole thing. Oh, and they were both stripped down to their boxers.”
“That’s awful,” I said, even though I was smiling as I pictured the very thing he was explaining.
“Most of it was Blake’s idea,” he defended himself. “My boy’s girlfriend, the one that told me what coffee to bring you. That girl is a rebel and it’s sometimes scary. You either need to be on her side, or never fall asleep in the same house as her. It will not end well. Believe me I know. You’ll wake up glued to something, which leads you on a trip to the ER.”
“If I woke up Saran wrapped to a couch, you better bet I’d pay you back.” I shook my head as I laughed at him. “And it would definitely be something a hell of a lot worse than shaving cream. I’d shave your head instead.”
“Now you sound like Blake for sure.”
“And I’ll say it again, I like that woman and I don’t even know who she is.”
Chapter Eight
Clayton
“Thank you,” Emelie said as I placed her basket into her backseat and shut the door. “I’ll pay you back Tuesday in class.”
When I turned to face her, I leaned back against her driver’s door instead of stepping out of her way. “I don’t want you to pay me back, Em. But I do wanna take you out sometime.”
“I don’t go out.” She looked away from me and toward the ground. A sense of fear that I was losing the relaxed atmosphere we’d been in for the last couple of hours hit me.
“Then we’ll stay in.”
“I don’t stay in either,” she replied quickly, and I just gave her a questioning stare. “You know what I mean. I just don’t date.”
“So we won’t date, we’ll just hang out.” I was grabbing for any angle I could find at this point.
“Clayton, fine. I’ll admit it, you seem like the opposite of who I thought you were, but I have Ethan to think about.”
“I’m not just asking you to spend time with me.” I reached out and took her hand in mine. “I wanna spend time with him too.”
“Until what?” She pulled away from me and threw her hands out to her sides. “Until you get bored? Until you realize that I can’t just pick up and take off whenever I want to go to some party? Until you see that my life is nothing glamorous and that the only thing I do is work, go to school, and play trucks in my apartment with my two-year-old?”
“I like trucks.” Instead of my comment making her laugh, she tilted her head back, looked up at the sky, and let out a frustrated growl.
“You don’t get it, Clayton.” Her perplexed look wiped the grin from my face the second I saw it.
“What don’t I get? Tell me.” Somebody needed to because I wasn’t sure what was so wrong about me wanting to spend time with her and Ethan.
Emelie stared at me, opening her mouth only to close it quickly after. She did this a few times before she finally gave in and let everything she had built up fly out in a rush. “I can’t fall for some guy who wants to play house for a few months, because then Ethan falls for him too. In the end, I’m the asshole when you decide it’s too much and I’m left with a toddler that is attached. It’s wrong, and I can’t do that to him. There’s been too many people that have already turned him away and I’m done watching it. It hurts too damn much. He deserves more.”
“Em—”
“No.” She held up her hand to stop me. “You’re a sweet guy, and I take it all back, all the things I thought you were. But I can’t expect you to give up your life, Clayton, it’s not fair."
“I’m not giving up anything.” I had never been more lost in one conversation than I was then.
“But you are, you just don’t realize it yet. Being with me means a life of compromise and I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You aren’t asking me to give up anything,”
“And I never will.” It was one line, but it had a strong impact. “We’ll never be more than friends, Clayton. I can’t offer you what you’re looking for.”
I wanted to argue with her and give her all the reasons why she was wrong, but I knew it would get me nowhere. She was set on keeping me at a distance. The harder I pushed the more she would scramble.
So instead of arguing, I stepped to the side and allowed her to get in her car. I watched as she backed out of the parking space and just before she drove off, she gave me a sad smile that told me everything she said wasn’t what she really wanted. Keeping her son safe outweighed any wants she had.
***
I walked up the front steps of our house and didn’t even pause when I practically tripped over two of my brothers having some type of wrestling match in the entryway. Or when Eli grabbed for me and caug
ht the edge of my shirt, just before releasing his hold when I shot him an unimpressed look.
Someone called out my name as I reached the top landing of the stairs, but I didn’t stop there either. I was irritated and confused, two feelings I didn’t deal with often. I was a laid-back guy; Corbin was the one who was high-strung. It took a lot to bother me, but I’ll admit this shit with Emelie was fucking with my head. Some of the things she said pissed me off. I just wasn’t sure I even had the right to be pissed.
Chapter Nine
Emelie
“And you’re sure you got him?” I grabbed my bag and hopped around on one foot trying to get my shoe on without falling flat on my face.
“Yes, Mommy.” Palmer used Ethan’s hand to wave goodbye, which only made him giggle. “Now will you leave so Aunty Palm can corrupt my tiny little mind and teach me bad words?”
“Real funny.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’ll be back right after class.”
“Or you could, I don’t know, maybe go for a coffee and take a little time for yourself for once.”
“I’ll be back right after class,” I repeated.
“Your mommy is such a party pooper,” she whispered near Ethan’s ear and he reached over his shoulder to pinch her nose. “Stop worrying, he’s better and we are fine.” She waved this time, motioning me toward the door.
I hurried to class, making it with only a few seconds to spare. I rushed in and when my seat came into view I froze, feeling someone bump into the back of me. There at my table sat a small gift bag and a coffee. Scanning the room, I noticed Clayton tucked back in his usual corner, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was talking to the girl at his side. A ping of jealousy I had no right to feel struck me. Instead of focusing on it, I continued to walk toward my desk, trying not to focus on what was taking place behind me.
My hands shook as I grabbed the bag and peeked inside. A small MP3 player, nothing fancy but nice enough. There were also a pair of tiny earphones, not earbuds, that had Elmo on each side. I could feel my emotions getting the best of me as I pulled out the small piece of paper inside and unfolded it.
My heart ached with excruciating pain when I read the words.
I thought Ethan would love this. I loaded about thirty songs on it already and nothing that you wouldn’t approve of. I only spent a short time with him, but I can’t for the life of me see how anyone could ever turn their backs on him…or you.
I closed my eyes tightly, fighting off the tears but it was impossible. As one rolled over my cheek, I hurried to wipe it away. I sat through the entire class, holding the small bag with the gift for my son securely in my hands. Almost as if I was trying to protect it, but I was just so overcome by it I was unable to let go.
I didn’t even drink my coffee and I couldn’t tell you a word the professor spoke. My entire focus was spent on analyzing every reason why I should give in to Clayton. But even with every single item I’d listed in my mind, it all fell down to one thing. He didn’t just want me, he wanted Ethan too.
When I was able to pull myself free from my internal battle, I realized I was no longer in a classroom full of students but in a room alone with only a professor looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
“I’m sorry,” I hurried to gather my items and rushed outside, my eyes searching him out. I could feel myself panicking as I continued to scan the open court of students moving through. Then I spotted him. I’d recognize that confident strut anywhere. He was walking side by side with the same girl I’d seen in class. Part of me tried to convince myself that I should just let him go and let him be happy. But then an even bigger part told me that if let him get away, I’d be taking away the chance of Ethan having someone special in his life.
Before I could stop myself, I started walking.
As I got closer I hollered out his name, only with the laughter and commotion from those around us, there was no way he could hear me. I started to walk faster. Just as he reached the parking lot and opened the door of a blue SUV, I tried again: “Clayton!” Yet there was still nothing.
He crawled into the vehicle and I started to jog, my heart beating rapidly.
He started to back out and I slowed to a stop, the strap of my bag sliding off my shoulder and I did nothing to stop it. Disappointment hit me as I hung my head and fought the urge to just crumble to the ground at my feet. Then I heard a honk. I looked up to see Clayton standing next to his still running car with the driver’s door opened. His hand rested on the opening as he stared straight at me.
I started to walk once more, my eyes remained locked with his.
He wore a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes and a t-shirt that was tight on his arms and chest, conforming and highlighting every muscle. It’d been a long time since I reacted to my feelings without questioning them first. When I stepped up to his side, he turned to me and I reached up, placing my hand on the back of his neck.
“You’re not who I thought you were, Clayton Powell,” I whispered as I tugged him closer and he came willingly. “You are so much more.” I said the words just before our lips met.
His arms circled my waist and suddenly my body was pulled in firmly to his. His other hand went to the back of my head, his fingers combing through my hair.
Elated.
That’s how I felt.
Our kiss was slow and sensual, though the impact it held on me felt so deep. Like every worry I’d ever felt faded and it was the only thing that mattered. “Please don’t make me regret this.”
“I won’t.” He leaned back and looked me directly in the eyes. “I promise.”
***
“That guy is a pure genius.” Palmer laughed as she pointed toward Ethan. “I don’t think he’s taken those off since you gave them to him.” Ethan sat on the floor driving his little trucks around on the rug that looked like a dozen different roads. Every once in a while, he’d pause and look up at the television, yet he couldn’t possibly hear the movie playing. He wore the Elmo headphones Clayton had given him, and had kept them on since I placed them on his ears a couple of hours before.
“It was definitely a good idea.” Thoughtful and so very sweet too, but I said that part in my head.
I’d given in, stopped fighting my need to push him away, but I still felt unsettled by it. It was just part of who I was; I worried. First it was Mark who turned his back on his own child, then my parents, and finally the friends who were quick to dismiss me when they realized I would soon have a kid and be unable to run around and live the ultimate college life. I’d gotten used to being disappointed; it was something I knew well. The only person who had never turned their back on me or Ethan was Palmer.
“Stop overthinking it.” Palmer nudged my shoulder with her own before turning around and walking toward our small kitchen. I followed behind her, feeling as if I needed just a little reassurance that I hadn’t make a colossal mistake.
“I just don’t want Ethan to get attached.”
She looked up over the open refrigerator door and arched her brow knowingly. “What you mean is that you don’t want to fall for the guy.” I sometimes hated how well she knew me. “This is me telling you that the guy could target and get any other girl walking around this campus. He could have chosen the million and one floozies that hang around fraternity row, but he chose you. He chose you even after he found out you had a son and that would have been the time for him to scramble. Yet instead, the guy befriended your son and bought him a gift. Nothing about that screams ‘player’ to me.”
“What if—”
“No,” she snapped as she shut the fridge door and handed me a water. “I refuse to let you do this. You’re gonna accept that there is a guy out there that is not a self-centered prick and looks at you for the amazing person you are. A guy that actually wants to spend time with you and your son. Stop picking it apart, stop looking for the wrong, and just live it. Ride the high I know you are feeling because I can see it in your eyes. Hell, Em, I could see it in your eyes since the fi
rst moment you came home bitching about the arrogant prick from the ER. He got to you, and whether you want to admit it or not, you liked him then and you like him even more now.”
“Fine,” I said and walked away from her, irritated that she took all my arguments away. I wanted to give her all the reasons why it wouldn’t work out, but I knew in the end they weren’t solid. They were nothing, only possible scenarios that could take place, things I’d created in my mind to justify my unease.
“Fine,” she repeated. “So, when are you going to see him next?”
When she sat down on the couch next to me, I could see the way she eyed me from the side. “We didn’t make any plans.”
“Why?”
“Because I told him I wasn’t sure what I had going on.” I shrugged as if that was a good enough reason.
“So, you ran up to him and kissed him, then when he asked to see you later, you told him you had plans?”
“No.” I refused to look at her because I knew she’d be giving me that same disappointed stare. “I told him that I would let him know because I didn’t know if I had plans.”
She didn’t argue with me which I found interesting because Palmer always argued with me when I was being foolish. Instead, she leaned forward and snatched up my cell phone from the ottoman. “What are you doing?”
“Something you should have already done yourself.” When I attempted to reach out and take my phone, she leaned away from me. “There, now you better move your ass and get this place cleaned up. Your boy will be here in a few hours.”
She smirked at me, actually smirked.
“I can’t—”
“Nope.” She used her hand to stop me, waving it in front of my face. “Excuses are like assholes, everyone has one.”
“You are so crass,” I told her as I looked at her retreating back.
“And you are like a little ol’ lady. You need to start living like a twenty-one-year-old woman. Just because you have a son doesn’t mean your inhibitions and frankly your life need to fizzle out. You are smart and beautiful. You have a very good-looking guy that wants to spend time with you. Jeez, Em, dust off the cobwebs and take full advantage of that man.”
