chapter nineteen
CLAY IS WAITING IN the driveway for her. Irena's things have been packed since she woke up. Chris catches her just before she flies down the stairs.
"Talk to Mom before you go, alright?"
"If you want to talk to him just tell me that," she rolls her eyes. "Be nice, you idiots."
She rounds into the living room, fingers trailing along the bannister of the stairs. It's fairly early, but her parents had always been inclined to rise with the sun. More so her mother, who was an avid early-morning yoga fanatic.
"Morning Mom. I'm gonna head out now. Clay's here."
"So I heard," Helen half-winces, gaze traveling to where the front door has only just creaked shut. "They're just being brothers, you know? I do remember some times you were grateful they're the way they are."
"I know," Irena herself winces at the memories. Tear-stained foundation and worries about messing up her fancy dress. Weekend mornings of tired eyes wondering why she wasn't ever enough for some stupid lacrosse player who wouldn't text her back. Teenage boys were hell and she's glad to be past that stage of her life. But like her mother said, her brothers had always been there. Sometimes with more tough love than she wanted to hear, but she's turned out alright.
She perches on the arm of the sofa until they walk back inside. And...they're laughing. With Clay. Languid postures, no tension. Clay catches her eye and all she gets is a sly smirk. She scrunches her nose at him in retaliation.
"Good morning, Mrs. Gold," he quickly offers. The smile is sliding away. The memory of their last meeting is obviously still fresh in his mind. Helen is a lot more relaxed this time around. Less stress after a relaxing and enjoyable weekend with her children.
"Morning, Clay. Want some breakfast? Irena and Damon made waffles a bit ago. They're still warm."
"Ah, no thanks. I grabbed some Dunkin on the way here," he gestures vaguely over his shoulder to where his car is. His glaze flicks to hers again, then at the bags scattered around her feet. "Want me to carry those to the car?"
"Sure." Irena blushes when their hands brush on the handle of her bag. As if they haven't touched a hundred times before. As if she really is just still a naive teenager with a crush.
"He's alright," Damon huffs as Clay leaves through the door. "I expected more...athlete type, I guess? He's not exactly your type. What did you say he did for work again?"
Clay walks back through the door in time to save her. Irena hoists her purse, hugging her mother briefly before starting for the door. Her skin burns again as Clay's fingers find hers, twirling and combining until there is one welded point between them. The universe trapped in their grasp.
There's more heat when they're in the car. Clay is over the console the second his door closes. His hand curls around her face and pulls it towards his. Desperation, the touch of a man who's been lonely for far too long. Irena hadn't been aware just how much she'd been craving him until his lips crashed with hers and her heart came to life. It felt like their very worlds were colliding. Ancient lovers kept apart for far too long. Her sang for him, violin strings soaring with high octaves.
A month isn't long.
It felt like it. Irena is gasping for air when he pulls away.
"I missed you," he breathes, still so close to her mouth that the air they take in is mingling. Just another part of them that's conjoined.
"I feel like I'm dreaming," she responds. He grins, pulling back. His hand travels to her thigh, where it rests even as he pushes the gears into reverse.
"So. Almost two full days. What do you want to do?"
"I want to play Minecraft," she decides. She sees the surprise that crosses his face, even with only his side-profile visible to her.
"Really?"
"Yes. Ok, ok," she relents, holding her hands up in defense, "don't make fun of me, but Isaac and Eamon were playing it all weekend and it does actually look kinda fun. Not the killing monsters part. Just the building with pretty colors part."
"Well, luckily for you, you've come to the right guy. I happen to be quite proficient."
"I hadn't noticed," Irena snarks. "Not like I also heard your voice all weekend."
"Damn, it must really suck to be dating someone famous, right?"
"Famous now, are we?"
"Alright, I'm humbled."
"That's right, Mr. Minecraft. Stay humble and let a newbie learn some building skills, alright?"
"Of course." He's smirking. Irena has a feeling he won't be that kind.
"Just...no streaming it? Right?"
"Of course," he repeats, more seriously this time. His hand presses more heavily on her leg, a touch of reassurance. "I'd only put you out there if you wanted me to. And I don't think either of us are ready for that yet."
"Not at all," Irena agreed, although a small part of her heart constricted funnily. Stupid, she told herself. He was right. Neither of them were ready to make their relationship public to millions of people. And yet...wasn't he proud of her? Didn't he want people to know about her?
The drive is fairly long. It does pass quickly with a good playlist, but it's three hours Irena wastes mulling over her doubts. Memories and regrets, too. The next thing she knows, Clay is gently nudging her awake.
"We're here," he murmurs. She groans dramatically, refusing to open her eyes. Her head rolls into him. "Fine," he replies. Irena yelps as she's scooped from the car. Clay picks her up way too easily. "I got you," he laughs as she starts to move. "Stop squirming."
"How long was I out?"
"Like thirty minutes. I stopped and got us some lunch at McDonald's, if that's alright. My mom is going to bring some steak over later."
That's enough to make Irena's eyes shoot open. She hasn't met his family yet, aside from a quick hello over FaceTime. His siblings were usually the ones that said hello.
"And you let me drool all over myself?"
"Relax," he soothes as he sets her down at the front door. He scrambles for his key for a moment before offering the open doorway. "You look fine."
"Noo I'm wearing sweatpants and a gross old tee."
"Hey! That's my t-shirt!" She ignores his protests, laughing as she flops onto the couch.
"Where's my beloved, darling, dear, sweet, little baby?"
"Probably in my room."
"Say less."
"You're definitely only here for my cat, aren't you?"
"Yes, what's wrong with that? Have you seen her?" He fake pouts until he close enough to trap her into an embrace. His hands curl around her waist and draw her into his chest. Her playfulness retracts as her heartbeat rises. She's just as shy as before when she glances up at him. A smirk of triumph. He knows the effect he has over her.
"Come on. Give me some time before you worry about the cat."
"Alright," she breathes. She's too wrapped up in him to say otherwise. He tears down her barriers like a storm. A tornado of pure fire and gold and passion that leaves her burning and yearning for more. Her thoughts run away until his molten touch lands on her skin and she is completely, utterly, his.