Clara

Regrets are the last thing on my mind when my earlobe is taken between his teeth and he not so gently sucks. Wildfires flame across my skin as our cheeks caress. His rough to my soft. I wonder if that’s how we’ll always be. If two shattered souls are better apart or together.

I’m not sure I can handle more pain, but with my soul taken with his, I know I have no choice but to see this, us, through. Taking his hand in mine, I look at his lifeline. It matches mine in so many ways—straight before it splits. He’s a survivor like me. I bring it to my mouth and kiss his palm. In that moment, I realize we were always meant to meet, in this world or the next. It was determined long before now. With my lips to his skin, his dark melds into mine and together we become a lighter shade of gray.

We ended up in the deep end of the ocean before we learned to swim. I whisper, “I should have walked away.”

The shadow of a beard scrapes against my skin until his lips reach mine. “You should have.” He kisses me, his tongue invading my mouth, mine invading his. A growl deep in his chest vibrates through our kiss and I know it’s too late to walk away now.

“Clara?”

We part with haste, both of us meeting my mom’s surprised expression. Cruise licks his lips as if he can’t bear to leave a drop of our kiss exposed. Our hands find each other in the middle space.

Her eyes dart between us and for a millisecond I see fear flicker across her face before she asks me, “May I speak with you in private?”

Cruise takes a step back, and says, “There’s a book I’ve been meaning to pick up. I’m going to look for it.”

When he’s turned the corner at the other end, I go to my mother. “What is it?”

“Who is he?” Her tone is disapproving and her expression hard, reminding me of how she used to look before . . .

My dark angel.

My soul’s keeper.

My hell.

My heaven.

My savior.

My solace.

My safe place. Is that what he is? “He’s a friend.” He is so much more that friend seems like a disservice to how I already feel about him.

“He looks like he’s more than a friend.”

“We’ve seen each other a few times.”

She comes closer, her shoulders beginning to slack. “Be careful with boys like that.”

He’s a man, not a boy, but I don’t correct her. “Why?”

“When you fall in love you never think you’ll vanish in the process.” Tucking some of my hair behind my ears, I’m reminded how Cruise did this same caring gesture earlier. She adds, “I know it’s tempting to experience everything you never had a chance to, but you don’t have to do it all at once with the first boy you meet. You don’t have to settle. You have a world and a full life ahead of you. Don’t rush into—”

“You know I’m not a virgin.” I look away from her.

Her steady voice is broken by my comment, and she coughs, as if that can erase the pain. “I wasn’t talking about sex, Clara. Oh my God, are you already having sex with him?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you.” I finally angle my shoulders back and look at her.

“I don’t want to have it either, but you know firsthand that the world isn’t all rainbows.”

“And yet, you want to take this little joy I’ve found away from me.”

“No,” she starts. “I don’t. Honey, please. I understand that this person—”

“Cruise,” I smart back. “Not person. His name is Cruise.”

“Okay. I understand that Cruise makes you happy and your happiness makes me happy. I want nothing more than that for you. I just want you to be careful. Take things slowly. There’s no rush. That’s all I’m saying.”

Slow? I don’t even know his last name. It doesn’t even matter that I don’t know it. I like the way he looks at me like I can save him. I like his touch though it’s always too gentle. He wants to go slow as well. How much slower can we take things?

Reason sets in, a byproduct of my mom questioning my decisions. Maybe I don’t know him well enough. I can’t think clearly around him.

Is Cruise even his real name? Clara’s not mine. I’m drawn to him in such a raw, vulnerable way, but we don’t even know each other. I stumble over my words, “I need to . . . um, he’s waiting on me.” I hug her quickly. “I appreciate the concern. I’ll be careful.”

Embracing me with both arms, she kisses the side of my head. “I know you will be, but I worry. I love you.”

“I know, and I’ll be okay. I promise. I love you.” I back away, our eyes meeting once more before I turn and search for Cruise. I want to reignite the flame between us before it’s extinguished from playing it too safe. I’ve got to trust him even if it means getting burned.

I’m not sure what brought us together—fate, destiny, right place, right time, my skirt that he couldn’t take his eyes off, or something buried inside us by some evil that has touched us both—but I’m not willing to walk away now. When I see him reading while sitting on a step stool left behind by an employee, our last encounter doesn’t sting any longer, not now that I know the truth. I may have been raised to not trust men, but I won’t let the devil win.

Cruise wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn’t even realize it. I could take it, steal it, and hide it away to enjoy on my loneliest days. But the sides of his lips turn up and the sight of that smile sings to my deepest desires. Maybe love does exist. I have to put myself out there to find out, so I walk to him and lift the book just enough to see what he’s reading. “Cooking to Impress?”

When he looks up there’s a twinkle in his eyes. My heart starts racing because he makes me feel like I’m the reason for that twinkle. “Chicks love when men cook for them. Figured I should learn.”

“It’s true. As a chick, I would love that.”

The book is slammed shut, and he stands, towering over me, but not intimidating me. “Then I’ll cook to impress you. How’s Monday?”

“You don’t waste time, do you?”

He slinks his arm around my waist and pulls me against his middle. “I usually go after what I want.”

“And you want to cook for me?”

“I want so much more, but we’ll start with dinner.”

“At your place?”

“How about I cook for you at yours? Then you can relax and do whatever you need to do.”

“Casual or formal?”

“Comfortable. I want to see you in your element.”

I laugh, but catch a whiff of his cologne, momentarily distracting me. God, he smells amazing. “What were we talking about?” I lean my head against him.

“Elements. Dates. Me cooking for you. How’s six?”

“That works. I can work at the table while you work in the kitchen.”

A kiss is placed on my forehead before he releases me and holds the cookbook between us. “Perfect. Plan to be spoiled, Ms. . . .”

And this time, I don’t play games, or hesitate. I answer, “Eckerd.” I want him to know more than my name. I want him to know me. All of me.

“Come on, let’s checkout so I can drive you home. I have a lot of planning to do tonight.”

“But the dinner’s not until Monday.”

“I have other obligations to tend to first.”

We walk hand in hand to the register. “Should I be jealous?”

“No. I have dinner with my family tomorrow night. I haven’t spent much time with them lately, so I can’t get out of it without pissing them off.”

“It’s nice you’re spending time with your family.” I bump against him as we walk. “You know you don’t have to cook for me to impress me. I’m pretty impressed already.”

Bending down, he steals a kiss. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He winks.

My hand tightens around his to fight this damn swooning that is taking over me. I’ve never felt lightheaded from something good before. I prefer this version.

Cruise lays his credit card on the counter. When he looks back, he’s quick to reach for me and pull me in. I can get lost in his soulful eyes and lose myself so easily in the comfort of his arms.

I’m not sure what’s come over me. Is this what normal feels like? Or is it Cruise that makes me feel this good? I take a long breath, inhaling air back into my lungs, and then slowly exhale. My heart beating rapidly. My emotions getting away from me.

He’s handed back his card and the book. Taking me by the arm, Cruise is careful when he helps me out the door. So protective. Staring at him, I smile because now I know what’s come over me.

Cruise.

“You do funny things to me.”

With a wry smile appearing, his arm goes over my shoulders. “Funny isn’t what I had in mind, but I’ll take it. Are you still up for letting me drive you home?”

I thought I was too damaged to see any man as anything other than a monster, or a predator baiting me. I never thought I could feel anything but contempt for men, but then along came Cruise. It’s too soon to feel this much. I know I shouldn’t, but my feelings are growing too fast for him whether I want them to or not. But maybe that’s how love works. I have no idea. Is this love? It feels like an addiction. He feels like a fix I need.

Damn my heart for being so weak. Or maybe, thank God my heart has begun to beat again.

“I am.” I am up for anything with you. I don’t tell him that, but I feel it because he’s just changed everything, my world shifting into place before my very eyes.