Clint
Dear sweet May isn’t really May at all.
She’s Sara, that cute girl I had a crush on a lifetime ago. And even as I see her heart breaking in her eyes, I step back out of her room and close the door behind me.
She lied to me. I let her watch my daughter. I trusted her. I even gave her the space I knew she needed for her past. I didn’t pry, but I did need honesty.
With a war raging within me, I leave the house. I need space. I need a chance to blow off steam. I need to get away from her. Because even as I feel betrayed, I feel like kissing her, long and hard, deep and desperately until she submits to me again.
But I only barely remember her.
At the front door, I stop and turn back toward her room. But I stop again, something in me telling me to leave her alone, to not corner her right now. I might do or say something I’ll regret.
I’d rather think things through.
But I turn and head back toward her room again. I’m not going to be passive. I was passive last night. She could have told me any time what was going on. I asked. I gave her outs. I trusted her to talk to me about important things.
I trusted her.
I shouldn’t have.
Opening her door without knocking, I see her spin to face me, shock in her lovely blue eyes. “Clint,” She says, my name a sweet whisper on her kissable lips.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand, my tone sharp as a razor.
Her lips part in shock and tears from in her eyes. But I’m not backing down now. She opened this Pandora’s box. She can damn well deal with the consequences.
Two tears roll slowly down her cheeks as she gapes at me, as if unsure how to respond to my anger. “I-” She says, her voice seeming choked by tears. Or fear. I’m scaring her. Good. Maybe she’ll know I’m not the kind of guy who lets liars get away with possibly endangering my daughter, my home, my life.
“I trusted you with Grace,” I say, advancing a step closer to her. But she doesn’t flinch back, she stands up straighter, her own anger lashing out.
“I’d never do anything to hurt her,” she hisses, anger shining in her features.
But I’m not convinced. “Really?” I say, crossing my arms. “So whoever you’re running from isn’t dangerous?”
And she snaps closed like a steel trap.
“I thought so,” I say, pushing it. “And what if I told you I loved you? That I wanted to make this real?” I gesture to the ring on the dresser. Her eyes dart to the ring and the tears come faster.
“I always loved you,” she whispers, her tone defiant even as her words indicate her shattering heart. “You just thought I was your little sister’s stupid friend.”
Wait, what?
She advances a step, poking a finger into my chest, her fury shining in her brilliant blue eyes. “I heard you tell them I was annoying. That you were glad for when I went home. You hated me.”
I’m stunned. She heard that, but she didn’t understand that I said that to protect myself. Because my buddies knew I liked her, and that that would mean torture for both of us. I was protecting her. But I was protecting myself more.
“I did say that,” I agree, and all her fire dies as she stares up at me. I wonder for a second if she expected me to lie. “But you’re wrong. I thought you were cute as hell. But I knew that you were Katie’s friend, that I could never have you. So I tried to put you out of my mind.”
Her eyes widen and all the fight seems to drain out of her.
“Did you tell my dad?” I ask, needing to know if she outed me. Though if she had, I assume Id know. I mean, dad would have brought it up, he’d have shunned me, he would have humiliated me.
She shakes her head. “What do I tell Katie?” she asks, and I shrug.
“The truth?” I say, wondering if it would be so bad.
But May closes right up. “She’d never forgive me.” Her shoulders slump and I want, more than anything, to pull her into a hug.
“So what?” If she wants something, she should step up. Her head lifts and she looks me in the eyes, her face questioning. “Isn’t it better to be honest? She’s going to find out. You said mom knew who you were, she won’t keep your secret forever you know.” The sudden panic in her features leaves me feeling a little bad for her. She really didn’t think this through.
She sinks back on the bed and I can’t help but think about how she’d looked last night, naked, riding me like a goddess out of my favorite fantasies. Damn it. No wonder I kept feeling like I knew her. That’s got to be why she felt like home. Why I’m so comfortable around her.
How didn’t I recognize her?
Because she grew up.
Her too huge eyes now fit her face. Her rounded face is more mature now, her cheekbones more defined. What was pretty then was beautiful now. She’s blossomed into a woman.
My cock is at attention again, but I know now is not the time.
“Can you give me some time?” she asks, and I nod.
“You’re going to have to face this sometime,” I tell her and she looks me dead in the eyes. There’s something in her expression that tells me she’s thinking of last night too.
Good. I want her to want me as much as I want her. I want to get through this. Together.