Page 52

What happened tonight.
How I had my shot and fucked it up, same as before.
Maybe I can still—
I catch a shadow of movement behind me in the reflection of the window, and I turn, expecting to see Simon in the doorway or maybe my mom. But it’s not Simon, and it’s not my mom.
It’s Claire.
She’s here.
Standing right in front of me.
I stand here, staring at her, trying to convince myself that this isn’t really happening. That I just want her so bad the wanting has finally driven me crazy. I close my eyes and wait for her to go away.
“You really need to stop doing that.”
That’s when I know it’s not a dream. That I haven’t finally lost my mind. I know because, in my dreams, the first words out of her mouth are always the same.
I love you.
I open my eyes.
She’s still here. I don’t know how she found me, but she’s here, standing in front of me in that barely there dress and spiked heels that make her legs look like they go on forever. Her hair is loose, falling around her shoulders in gentle waves that make my hands ache, her eyes, more blue than green, staring at me with a mixture of frustration and apprehension.
“Doing what?” I set the pitcher down, leaning against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Take your pick,” she says, closing the distance between us until she’s standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, her gaze locked on mine. I remember the first time we stood this close, how nervous she was. How much I wanted to kiss her. She doesn’t look nervous now. She looks like she wants to hit me. “Not giving me a say in what happens between us. Disappearing into thin air.” She moves, tossing her purse on the table before turning toward me again. “Leaving me behind.”
“You don’t want me, Claire.” I shake my head, tightening the lock I have on my arms, pushing them against my chest to keep myself from reaching for her. “I’m not—”
“We need to be clear about something,” she says through her teeth, jabbing me in the chest with her finger. Even with the heels, she has to tip her head back to look me in the eye. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, I am… but it wasn’t your fault and it doesn’t make a difference to me. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you and it doesn’t change the way I feel about Simon. What I’m angry about is the fact that you left. You left and didn’t trust me enough to even try to tell me why.”
“I was trying to protect you.” It’s a ridiculous thing to say, given the circumstances, and she confirms it when she laughs in my face. “Claire—”
“Stop,” she snaps up at me. “Stop assuming you know how I feel or what I think because you don’t. You didn’t know then, and you don’t know now.”
“Okay...” I close my eyes and sigh. “So tell me.” My eyes open and I find her where I left her. Close. Too close to allow me to think straight. “What do you want?”
“The same thing I’ve always wanted,” she says softly, her eye gone gray with tears. “You.”