Chapter 7
There were dozens of ways Matthew could have reacted to finding out Claire had given up her virginity to him. Any number of them would have been a better choice than simply fleeing the scene. He knew it was wrong, there was no question there. Where the question lie was in the fact that he held any remorse at all. He’d popped his share of cherries in his lifetime, though none of those encounters had been quite as enthralling as he had felt, wrapped in Claire’s arms. He should have said no when she offered to meet him in the locker room. He should have refused, but God, how could he have known? If he had known… and there it was again, the fact that if he had known, he wouldn’t have had sex with Claire. Why, though? That was the one thing he couldn’t reason out, aside from the fact that he was friends with Claire. He had never been friends with a woman before, he had no respect for women. Claire was different, though. Starkly different than any other woman he had ever met. Though she had obviously wanted him, the guilt of claiming her maidenhood washed over him like so many dark clouds. He slumped in the driver’s seat of his car, resting his forehead against the steering wheel. It had always been so simple before. Just taking what he wanted from women, and moving on with his life. He could have very well done that, there. He had laid the foundation of covering his tracks, he could avoid her quite easily. A gym membership down the drain and having to find a new bar to frequent were the least of a wealthy playboy’s worries. There was one thing, out of everything, that he could not replace; the very woman he had left alone in the women’s locker room. He knew she couldn’t have called out to him. He knew she would be helpless to stop him.
He raised his head from the steering wheel, watching the entrance of the gym with some trepidation. He wanted to scream, he wanted to go back in and beg for forgiveness, he wanted to… well. It wasn’t about what he wanted. It was about what he didn’t want, and he certainly didn’t want to lose Claire. It would certainly be the opposite of charming and debonair to burst back into the gym, stinking of sex. He had received his share of stares, stalking out of the building. None of the eyes upon him were surprised however, no one held scorn that he may have taken advantage of some poor girl. It was Claire alone that would have to make the walk of shame out of the locker room.
Clenching his hands on the steering wheel, he cursed his indecision. More than that, he cursed the fact that he found himself holding something more than sexual attraction for a woman. He had little choice to come to terms that he respected Claire, at least, to some degree. Guilt gnawed at his insides, and swallowing his pride, he threw open the door to his car. Before he could make his way back to the gym, however, a dingy car flew out of the parking lot. He watched the car leave, knowing without a doubt who sat behind the steering wheel. Claire must have snuck out the back exit, not that he could blame her. The only person he could blame was himself, for not having the nerve to apologize. He had thought himself a brave person, but when it came to his feelings, he was nothing short of cowardly. He mused that if he knew what he was feeling, if he had ever felt this way before, perhaps he would know the proper way to respond. He felt helpless with this feeling he couldn’t put a name to; dare not put a name to.
He tried to assure himself that this entire situation would blow over. He knew without a shadow of a doubt, however, that Claire respected herself too much to come crawling back to some man who only thought with his dick. She had put herself on the line when she’d opened herself up to him, and he was certain she could only regret it.
He slipped back into his car, turning the ignition and driving home. As he stepped into his mansion, he could only muse on how empty the place suddenly felt. The one time it had felt truly warm was when Claire was there, clutched in his arms. It had been a mistake. It was a mistake to get enthusiastic in the woman, in her plot to… to trap him! He could tell people that she had tried to trap him, dragging him into a fake relationship only to catch him between the thighs. He knew better than that, though. The fact was that Claire had opened up to him, and he had blown it. He cared, because… because… well, he cared because it was Claire. If it had been any other woman in the world, it would have mattered a hell of a lot less. There was a reason Claire had acted the way she had, and it wasn’t what he may have thought even a few days prior. If he wasn’t so enamored with her, he could have convinced himself that she was trying to trap him. That was the answer, though, wasn’t it?
Matthew had feelings for Claire, and quite obviously, she had feelings for him as well. It should have been enough for him to tuck tail and look for a place to lay low for a while. It was the same story whenever a woman came to develop feelings for him, and God there had been plenty. He lost their number, ignoring their desperate texts and calls and… he felt like a monster, considering doing that to his friend.
Shaking off the thoughts as best as he could, Matthew tossed his cell phone on the coffee table before retreating upstairs for a shower. He needed to wash the stink of sex off him, the scent of betrayal. No matter how hot he turned the water, it didn’t feel like enough to scorch off his wrongdoings. He knew he was overreacting, or at least, he was reacting more than he ever would have, before. There was still a small chance he could fix this. He was a charming man, even if he had abandoned Claire, there was no doubt that he could exploit her developing feelings for him. It was what any alpha male worth his weight in gold would do.
He couldn’t. As the steam from the shower settled heavy over the room, as his skin grew mildly inflamed from the heat of the water, he knew in the bottom of his heart that he could not exploit Claire’s feelings. If not for his own developing feelings, he would call her and apologize. Invite her over to talk things out over a cool drink. Maybe he’d invite her out to dinner, maybe he would cross those lines he had promised he never would. When he signed up for this charade, he had already crossed a line in the metaphorical sand. He had told himself he would never go out to help a woman unless it served him in some way. He hadn’t gone into this entire plot with the plan of catching Claire in the women’s locker room with her pants down. It had just happened. It had been wonderful, better than any sex he’d ever had, but he hadn’t planned for it. He supposed one never planned to…
He was getting ahead of himself, trying to put a name to the feeling. He would take it one step at a time. The first step was to get out of the shower and call Claire, let her know how sorry he was. Exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a luxuriously plush towel to dry himself off. He examined his reflection in the mirror for a moment, surprised to see just how troubled he looked. He’d never been so stressed in his life, never so worked up over any woman. No matter. He would fix this. He threw open the bathroom door, wrapping the towel around his waist as he slinked downstairs. He could hear the distant beep of his phone, indicating that he had missed a call of some sort. Dread crept up in the pit of his stomach at the sound, but he tried to assure himself that it was nothing to worry about. Claire wouldn’t break things off now, not after everything they’d been through. It would be far too late to find a replacement for Matthew, especially considering that he’d already met her sister.
Still, he found himself stealing his nerves as he gripped his cell phone, swiping it to reveal that he indeed had a missed call. The number was unfamiliar, and he quirked a brow before pressing the key to play the message. He held the phone to his ear, scarcely able to make out a voice through the background noise of the call. It was Claire, but she wasn’t calling from her own phone. She said she was at the Half Pint, and that she no longer needed his… services. His insides curdled at the way she phrased it, as if he had been little more than some hired whore. He glared at his phone as he drew it away from his ear, debating calling the woman back to tell her just what he thought of that situation. The warmth of his feelings for her fell away at the idea that she had indeed been using him, that he had allowed himself to get swept up in a way he never wanted. However, he had feelings to express that couldn’t be expressed over the phone. If she wanted to end this charade, she would have to do it to his face. Decision made, he stalked back upstairs to get dressed. He made certain to dress to the nines, silently appraising himself in the mirror as he adjusted his tie. He didn’t consider that it might seem somewhat strange to come to the rundown bar in attire fit for the ritziest restaurant in town. All he knew was that he didn’t like the glimmer of pain reflected in his own eyes.
The trip to the Half Pint seemed to drag on for an eternity, but once he found himself outside the bar and grill, he found himself debating if he really wanted to cause a bigger rift between them than he already had. Though her insinuation that she had been using him had hurt, Matthew knew there was likely a deeper meaning to Claire’s actions. If she had no feelings for him, she certainly wouldn’t have sacrificed her virginity to him. He valued himself a rather attractive and charming man, but he knew it would have taken a lot more than that to catch Claire with her pants down. He breathed a sigh, leaning against his car and lighting a cigarette. He inhaled deeply, the smoke burning his lungs as he considered his options. His decision was seemingly made for him as he spotted Claire being escorted out of the bar, and he stomped out his cigarette before approaching her and the man who held her so roughly.
“What’s going on, here?” He blurted angrily, meeting Claire’s gaze with some trepidation.
“She’s so drunk off her ass, Matt. Never seen her get so wasted before. I was just gonna see her home,” the other man said with a sly wink. Matt’s eyes widened, and he glanced to Claire. For her part, she seemed scarcely able to keep her footing, swaying slightly from side to side. Realizing that the man intended to exploit her, he narrowed his eyes heatedly at the man.
“That’s quite alright. I’ll see her home with her being my lady, and all,” Matthew gritted. The other man’s eyes widened, and Claire seemed to finally notice his presence. Her eyes were sad, initially, but grew fiery as she continued to take in his appearance. “Come on, love. Let’s get you home. You’re in no shape to drive,” Matthew offered gently, extending his arm for the drunken woman to take. She seemed surprised by the gesture, nearly stumbling into Matthew’s arms as the other man turned tail and fled.
“Oomph,” she grunted unhappily, wobbling in Matthew’s grip. “What are you doing here, all dressed up? Planning to pick up another chick, one who…,” she paused, hiccuping loudly. “Here to pick up another chick who won’t give you any trouble? You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass, rich boy,” she slurred. He narrowed his eyes upon her, irritation brewing in his gut.
“I’m only here to see you home, Claire. I don’t care what you think about me, I only care—,” he began, cut short by her poking him painfully in the chest.
“You only care about yourself and getting your dick wet. I understand, Matt. I was stupid enough to fall for your charms the first time, but I’m not a girl to be made a fool of twice,” she bit out. He narrowed his eyes, tempted to draw away from her. He could tell, however, that she could barely support herself now. As much as he wanted to put her in her place, he also didn’t want her spirit broken. He had never felt so torn about a woman in his life.
“I’m here because I care about you, you foolish woman. Now, come on. I’m taking you home before some other guy takes advantage of you,” he hissed. She stumbled forward as he began to guide her to his car, and he was relieved when she finally stopped struggling against his grip. When they made it to his car, he yanked the passenger side door open, allowing Claire to fall none-too-gracefully inside. She groaned weakly, and it was only then that he noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Claire…?” He inquired hesitantly, crouching to get closer to her level.
“Stop acting like you care about me,” she ordered weakly. His eyes widened, but he knew it would do little good to argue with her in her present state. Swallowing the bitterness of her anger, he stepped around the car and got inside. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing began to even out; a welcome change from the desperate gasps and stuttering breaths. His emotions were muddled and confused as he watched her, but he simply swallowed a sigh, starting the ignition and driving toward his home.