Clara
I flopped down onto the staffroom couch, really wishing I’d stayed home, Simon’s reaction to my awkward hello making me feel even worse. Yes, I knew it would be awkward seeing him after our breakup, but that didn’t make it any easier, especially since we worked together. But I had no choice but to end things between us, the feelings I still harboured for Dante impossible to get past.
Even though Dante clearly didn’t harbour any feelings for me.
The way he was interacting with Candace pretty much told me I was nothing to him, not even a memory. And why should I be? I was just a story someone had told him, a second-hand tale passed on by word of mouth. He had no clue we’d loved each other or that I’d gone to jail for our relationship.
And he wouldn’t.
I would make damn sure he didn’t find out about it—or anything else that could hurt him.
Someone entered the room, drawing my attention to the doorway. I froze at who it was.
Dante.
He leaned against the doorway and smiled at me, lifting his chin in a friendly hello. He was dressed in ripped jeans and a black Avenged Sevenfold shirt, the tattoos on his muscular arms as colourful as his personality.
“Kia ora,” he said, saying hello in Maori, although he didn’t look Polynesian, even with the tribal tattoo around his left eye. Instead, his olive-skin and wavy black hair made him look Italian or Brazilian, which was what I’d thought when I’d first met him nine years ago. But I knew he wasn’t. He’d inherited his looks from his Croatian mother, the picture he’d shown me of her uncannily similar, only their eyes different. Hers had been hazel, while his were dark brown, which he’d inherited from his father, who was a mix of Maori and Romanian.
I knew so much about him, yet he knew nothing about me.
When I didn’t reply to his hello, too stunned to respond with a simple hi back, he indicated with a thumb over his shoulder. “There wuz nuthin’ goin’ on between me and that chick, I have no interest in her,” he said, his pronunciation of was as I’d remembered it, his Maori accent strong. “She wuz hitting on me, nuthin’ more.”
“This is the staffroom,” I muttered, not following his line of conversation. “You’re not allowed in here.”
A lazy smile pulled at his lips, so sensual it made me want to kiss them. “Is that so?” he said, looking as though he was accepting a challenge.
“Yes, so please leave,” I replied, hoping I didn’t appear flustered. Because I definitely felt it, the man able to unravel me with just one look.
He crossed his arms over his chest, emphasizing his tattooed arms. He’d had no tattoos when we’d been together, his skin a blank canvas. Whereas now, both of his arms were covered with a mix of scary and beautiful images, all skilfully rendered. But it was the tribal tattoo around his left eye that captured my attention the most, the dark green, almost black moko making him look positively magnetic. And I wanted to give into the pull so badly. To wrap my arms around the only man I’d ever truly loved and lose myself in him.
He broke my train of thought. “What if I don’t wanna leave?” he asked, seemingly enjoying our little to-and-fro.
I exhaled, remembering this. Remembering how he used to love challenging me. “Come on, Dante, please just do as you’re told.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not good at doin’ what I’m told, that’s why I’m in rehab, while you, Clara,” he said, emphasizing my name, “can’t talk to me like I’m a child.” He pushed away from the door and sauntered towards me, reminding me of how rock stars walked, that self-assured cocky swagger promising wild nights of sex. It made me want to run, but I remained on the couch, willing myself to keep it together.
He came to a stop in front of me, making me feel tiny in comparison. He’d grown a few inches since I’d last seen him, Dante now over six-foot. He was also more muscular. Not only were his biceps bigger, but his shoulders were much wider and his legs... I could imagine him easily crushing my small frame between those powerful thighs.
“You’re not my teacher anymore,” he said, “though I wouldn’t mind continuing with whatever we had.” His dark eyes wandered down my body, the slow perusal heating more than just my cheeks.
I clenched my hands, again willing myself to stay calm. “I don’t want any trouble with you, so please leave,” I pushed out. “I like my job. I’m not going to lose it because of you.”
His gaze flicked back up to my face. “Who said you would?”
“My boss if he caught me fraternising with a patient, so again please leave.”
“Have it your way.”
To my surprise, he turned and walked away without a fight. I watched him disappear through the doorway. A sudden, almost crippling feeling of loss hit me. I slumped further into the couch and put my head in my hands, wishing this wasn’t happening again. Because it felt like a repeat, just this time Dante was an adult. But it didn’t matter whether he was that fifteen-year-old boy I’d fallen in love with or the twenty-four-year-old man that had left me a quivering mess ... nothing had truly changed. I was still in a position of authority. I still couldn’t have a relationship with him. And even if I waited until he was discharged, there were a multitude of other obstacles, like his father and the man’s partner, not to mention—
“CC.”
I looked up, seeing Georgie rush through the doorway. “I saw Dante Rata leave the room. What was he doing in here? Are you all right?” Looking concerned, she sat down next to me and took hold of my hands. “Did he do anything to you?”
I pulled my hands free. “No.”
“You sure?”
I nodded, although it was a lie. He may not have touched me, but his presence had left me deeply shaken.
“Then why was he in here? You could get into serious trouble if someone thinks you’re associating with him inappropriately.”
“He turned up uninvited, so I told him to leave.”
“Why was he here in the first place?”
“To tell me there wasn’t anything happening between him and Candace, though God knows why he had the need to track me down to tell me that. It’s not as though I have a say in what he does.”
She frowned. “That’s strange.”
I nodded, thinking so too.
“Did he say anything else?”
“He flirted, even mentioned that he wouldn’t mind continuing with what we had when he was younger.”
Her immaculate eyebrows shot up. “He remembers?”
I shook my head, wishing he did. “No, his friend told him about us.”
“What did you say in response?”
“Told him to leave.”
“Wow, you’re one strong woman to turn down that man.”
I didn’t reply, knowing I wasn’t strong at all.
I was scared.