He clenched his jaw, “Forget it.”
“No.” She placed her hand on his arm that was leaning on the bar. “Tell me.”
Clay stared into her eyes, and then looked down at her hand, “I’m just saying, an argument that intense typically means there’s more to it than just the surface.”
Claire removed her hand, “It’s just our parents don’t want me hanging out with her.”
“Ok.” He took a sip of his drink.
“How is it that I’ve lived in this town my entire life, and I’ve barely seen you? But in the past week I’ve seen you four days in a row.”
He leaned into her, his face nearing hers, “Maybe you weren’t looking.”
Claire stirred her drink, “And you Clay Williams have seen me?”
Clay was inches from her now, “I see you.”
His words made her heart race, what was it about him that unwound her? “What…”
“Hi, Clay.” A curly haired brunette walked up behind him. Claire’s attention went to her.
Clay’s face dropped when he saw who it was, “Hi, Natasha.”
Natasha ran her hand from his shoulder to his neck, “Who’s your friend?” She shot Claire a look.
Clay pulled her hand off, “This is Claire. Claire, this is Natasha.”
Claire held her hand out, “Nice to meet you.”
Natasha looked down at Claire’s hand, but didn’t extend hers. “You’re that girl they talk about.”
Claire awkwardly pulled back her hand, “That who talk about?”
Natasha shrugged, “The town.”
“What is it that they say?”
“Natasha, stop.” Clay demanded.
Claire shot him a look, “No, I wanna know. What do they say about me?”
Natasha smiled, “You’re the pretty little princess that is marrying the prized Jason Matthews. But you haven’t given up the gold yet, have you?”
Claire’s mouth dropped open.
“I said stop, Nat.” Clay's voice went deeper than normal. He stepped in front of Natasha, and faced Claire, “Look I’m sorry…”
Claire held her hand up, “No, its fine. I get it. Enjoy your night.” She stormed off through the crowd, thankful that the lights were low, so no one could see the tears forming in her eyes. She burst into the bathroom, finding the first empty stall that she could. She rolled her lips, trying to hold back the tears. She didn’t like being a spectacle, but that’s all she felt like nowadays. For once she wanted to not be Kevin Cunningham’s daughter or Jason Matthews’ fiancé.
“Alright Ladies, we have a busted pipe; everyone out for a few minutes.” Logan’s voice came from the other side of the door.
Groans came from some of the women, and then the bathroom went silent. The bathroom door creaked open, and the lock turned. “Claire, are you in here?”
“Yes.” She said, as she opened the stall.
Logan’s face dropped when he saw her, he reached up wiping a small tear away, “Don’t cry, Claire Bear.”
“Can’t help it.” She walked over to the mirror, and dabbed her face with a paper towel.
“What happened? I saw you talking to Clay Williams. Did he say something to you?”
Claire turned to face him, “Do people talk about how Jason and I haven’t had sex?”
Logan leaned his hip on the counter, “Where’s this coming from?”
“Do they?” She pushed more.
Logan sighed, “I’ve been gone a few years, but you know this town; they talk.”
Claire looked back into the mirror, “Apparently I’m a topic of discussion. I just want to disappear some days.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“How do you know Clay?”
She looked at Logan in the mirror, “I don’t really.”
“You two were standing pretty close.”
“He worked on my parent’s fence.”
“You sure that’s all it is?”
“That’s all it can be.” She said firmly.
Logan smirked, “There it is.”
“Please, don’t say anything. I don’t like him, he just frustrates me.”
“Not to mention that he’s hot and…”
“And I have Jason.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
She looked over at him, “What were you going to say?”
“That he’s got it bad for you.”
“You don’t know that.”
Logan placed his hand on her shoulder as if bracing her for what he was about to say, “He watched you storm away like a sad puppy.”
“Jason.” Claire said, trying to end the conversation before she let her mind go to thoughts of her and Clay.
“Right.” Logan nodded, removing his hand from her shoulder. “Now, I need to let the ladies back in here, or they’ll stab me with their stilettos when I open this door.”
They walked out of the bathroom. Women had lined the wall; they fumbled into the bathroom, as Claire and Logan walked back into the main room. Logan hugged her before they parted ways.
Claire looked over toward where Clay was sitting, but he was gone. When she approached their table, Jenny had disappeared, but Jason was leaning back in the booth with his arm extended along the back of the bench. He was finishing off his drink, when she caught his eyes.
“There you are.” He stood.
Claire looked around the crowded bar, “Where’s Jenny?”
“Who knows, she probably found some guy to get under.”
Claire’s eyes went wide, “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Whatever.” He set his glass down, and took her hand. “Are you ready to leave? The band is finished playing.”
“I guess so.”
He started to lead her through the crowd. Her eyes searched for Jenny, but by the time they reached the door, she never spotted her. Jason said bye to one of his friends when they got outside. Claire pulled her phone out, and texted Jenny to ask if she was ok.
“Come on, Babe.” Jason placed his hand just above her butt, ushering her to walk.
She started walking, pushing her phone into her purse. A few cars had left, but a lot were still there. They made it to the car; Claire’s phone chimed, and she went to reach for it. Jason grabbed it out of her hand, and held it above her head, “Stop texting.” He said looking down into her eyes.
She huffed, “Are you drunk?”
He set the phone on the hood of the car, “No.” He took her by the hips, pushing her against the car and himself against her.
“Jason, what are you doing?”
“Kissing you.” He leaned down, and took her lips. He tasted of whiskey; it wasn’t sensual, or delicate. The kiss was forceful.
“Jason, stop.” She said against his lips, trying to push him away.
“Stop what,” His hand traveled up her thigh, slowly inching its way under her dress.
Panic flew through her, “What are you doing?” She yelled.
He grabbed her forearms, not letting her go, “Babe, I need this.”
“You’re hurting me.” She whimpered, and finally got from under his weight; his hands releasing her.
“What is wrong with you?” He snapped, “I’m your fiancé. I can touch you if I want.”
Her heart was racing, “No, you can’t. That’s not how it works.”
“Claire, the innocent act is getting old. We’ve been together five years; we should have had sex by now.”
Her eyes were as wide as they could be, “What happened to, we’ve been together five years, we can wait one more? Or was that for show?”
“You’re being a prude.”
She grabbed her phone from the hood, “And you're drunk.”
He shot her a pissed off look, and opened the passenger door, “Just get in the car. I’ll take you home.”
“You’re drunk. I’m not riding with you.”
“Get in the damn car, Claire!” He yelled.
She stepped back
in shock, “No.”
“Fine.” He slammed the door. “I don’t care how you get home.” He walked around the car, and got into the driver seat. The engine quickly came to life.
Tears slowly started to fall on her cheeks, as she watched him drive away. She searched for Jenny’s name and tried to call her. No answer. She looked around the empty parking lot; people from the bar were stumbling to their cars. She suddenly felt very alone. Fear came over her, but she couldn’t call her parent’s. They would murder Jason for leaving her. So, she started walking.
Thirty minutes into her walk, her crying stopped. She tried Jenny a few more times, but she either turned her phone off or it died. Every time a car would pass by, Claire got a sick feeling in her stomach. If anyone stopped that she didn’t know, she wasn’t sure what she would do.
Another thirty minutes passed. She judged that she had about an hour, and she would be home. Her stomach rumbled when she passed a closed steakhouse. She noticed a truck slowing down; she couldn’t really make out what it looked like. For a split second she thought she recognized it; she thought it was Clay. Until it pulled up next to her, and the window rolled down, “Need a ride?” One of the two men asked.
“No. I’m fine.” Claire’s steps picked up.
The truck followed, “What are you doing out here alone?” The passenger asked, his arm hanging out the window.
Claire didn’t respond.
The truck stopped, and the passenger hopped out of the truck, “I’m talking to you.” He snapped.
Her heart was in her throat, she took off running as fast as she could, ducking into a neighborhood. She found a large bush to hide behind. The tears returned. Emptiness filled her. The fear of what might happen if they found her raced through her mind. It felt as if she waited forever, until she felt safe enough to start walking again.
Two hours after leaving the bar, Claire finally reached her driveway. She never thought she would be this happy to see her home. She noticed Jason’s car had yet to return. At this moment she didn’t care where he was. She snuck around the side of her house, and slowly opened the kitchen door, avoiding waking her parents.
When she got to her room, she instantly stripped of her clothes, and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. She stepped into it, allowing the water to rush over her. She was trying to block out the events of the night, but the white noise of the shower only made it louder. She sat down on the shower floor, and let out a small cry, with her chin resting on her knees.
Chapter Five
Clay
Clay watched Claire storm through the crowd toward the bathrooms. She was hurt and somehow he inadvertently hurt her. It pained him to watch her walk away. A spout of anger filled him. He turned to face Natasha, “What the hell was that?”
“What?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you mad that I upset the Princess?”
“Stop.” He removed her arms from his neck.
“Stop what, Clay?” She put her hand on her hip. “You weren’t telling me to stop last weekend.” She ran her hand up his stomach.
He glared down at her, “You didn’t need to be rude to her.”
She laughed, taking a step back. “You like her don’t you?” She took a sip of his drink. “You know who that is, don’t you? She’s untouchable. Even if you tried, her father would kill you.”
“I’m aware.” He took the glass from her, finishing it off. “I don’t like her.”
“Just warning you.”
Clay put money on the bar, “I’m going home.”
“Want me to come with you? I can help you relieve that tension you clearly have built up.” She ran her fingers along his arm.
He looked down at her hands, then toward the bathroom. Claire was never going to be his. Natasha was simple. He started to walk toward the front door, “You coming?” He called out to Natasha.
A satisfied smile formed on her face, “Coming.”
*
When they pulled into his driveway, Natasha jumped out like she had been there a hundred times. Because she had. She was getting comfortable, and he didn’t know if he liked that. Tonight though was not the night to cut off ties. She was right about one thing, he needed to relieve tension.
Natasha dropped her purse on his coffee table. Clay walked into his kitchen, pulling down two glasses. “Do you want water?” He turned; she was right behind him.
“I want something else.” She took the glass from his hands, setting it off to the side.
He kept his eyes on her. She dropped to her knees, while unbuckling his belt. She unzipped his pants, taking him in her hands. He groaned when she fed him into her mouth. He put his hands on her head, as she moved.
An urge took over him; he quickly picked her up, carrying her over to the bed. He flipped her on her stomach, pushing her dress up over her butt, and moved her panties aside. He thought maybe he could fuck the thought of Claire from his mind.
“You want it rough tonight?” Natasha said breathlessly.
His response was thrusting himself inside of her as hard as he could. She yelped, and then moaned. His hands took hold of her butt, as he moved in and out of her. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room. He closed his eyes tight; suddenly he pictured Claire on her knees; her blue eyes staring up at him, while his cock filled her mouth. That was all he needed, and he buried himself into Natasha; Claire was his undoing. He came to climax, and Natasha met him there.
An hour and a shower later, Clay and Natasha laid next to each other in his bed; the moon peeking through the window. The crickets outside were the only sound.
Natasha rolled over to face him, “Can I ask you a question?”
He stared at the ceiling, with his arm behind his head, “Do you want to know the answer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then think about it before you ask.”
He felt her eyes on him. Then she spoke, “What is it that Claire has that I don’t?”
“Don’t.”
“Clay, don’t treat me like I’m nothing. I deserve to know.”
He looked over at her; her eyes had a genuine look in them. He ran his tongue on his bottom lip, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw the way you looked at her. You never look at me like that.”
He didn’t respond, and looked at the ceiling again. She was breaching a conversation that would end with her in tears. He didn’t want to do that to her. He may not want to date her, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t care.
“You pictured her while you were fucking me, didn’t you?”
He rolled away from her, “Go to sleep, Nat.”
He heard her sniffle, and she rolled away from him. He felt like an asshole.
“Nat,” He said, staring at the wall.
“Yes?”
“After tonight, we can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”
A few moments of silence passed until she finally spoke. “She’s a lucky girl.”
“Goodnight, Nat.”
*
Saturday Morning arrived. The sun started to rise, causing Clay to stir. He stretched his arms, and looked over to his right. Natasha wasn’t there. He sat up looking around his one room home. Her purse was gone. She was gone. He closed his eyes; a little pain went to his chest. She was hurt. He hurt her. Maybe it was for the best that she left like this. It was never going to be easy.
He stepped out of bed, and walked over to make coffee. A note was taped on the start button. “Your love is a gift. Don’t let her take it for granted.” - Nat He stared at it for a few seconds, and set it to the side. Natasha thought she had him all figured out. What she didn’t know is that love wasn’t in the cards for Clay.
He stopped by his father’s before heading to the church to pick up a few things. He wasn’t home. He rode to the church with his windows down; the sun was shining like it had every day this week. Today was routine, he stopped for a quick breakfast with his favorite
waitress Barb like he does every Saturday before work; his Saturday’s start later than his normal work days.
When he arrived at the library, he stared at the building that his Mom helped organize when it was first set up. It was an old abandoned church with stained glass windows. The city had taken over once it went up for auction. It’s a bit of a small town tourist attraction due to the fact that the windows are original. The tall white steeple stood tall as ever.
He grabbed his tool box, and walked toward the doors. The Woman that had requested for the repairs left the doors unlocked and a key inside for him. She assured him that she would come back later in the afternoon to make sure he locked up. When he stepped into the library it was filled with a rainbow of colors from the sun shining through the windows. It was a beautiful sight even to him.
He was an hour into work when he heard the doors open, and footsteps. “The library isn’t open.” He called out. The slow footsteps continued. He walked around one of the bookshelves into a wide aisle, “I said the library isn’t…” He froze. Shit.
“Hi.” Claire smiled back at him.
He let the measuring tape retract into his hand with a pop, “What are you doing here?”
“I saw your truck parked out front.”
“So, you thought you’d stop by?”
She shrugged, “I had nothing better to do.”
He laughed, “So, I’m your entertainment to pass time?”
“Well, when you say it like that you make me sound like a monster.” Claire looked back at him with a small smile. The sun through the stained glass danced on her golden hair. Clay was captivated by her, his eyes lingering on her longer than he had planned.
“No. I wouldn’t call you a monster.” He started to walk towards her, setting his tape measure in his bag.
She twisted her mouth, “What would you call me?”
He didn’t want to say it, but he was always honest. “Beautiful.”
She broke into a shy smile, “Thanks.”
“I’m sorry about my friend last night. She gets a little feisty.”
“It’s fine.” Claire disappeared down a row of books out of his sight.
“How was the rest of your night?” He leaned against one of the book shelves.
“Fine. Great actually. I had a blast.” She called out. He could hear the sarcasm in her voice.
Under the Oak Tree Page 4
