Chapter 8
‘Well, that was certainly a strange coincidence.’ I say to Clay as I take a seat next to him in the upstairs lounge they have.
He nods, frowning a little. ‘Very weird. I can’t actually get my head round it.’
I sit back on the couch, being only inches away from him, he stays quiet for a minute, and so do I, our breathing the only sound.
‘Did you know he was here?’ He asks suddenly. ‘I didn’t invite him, and I don’t think Gia would’ve.’
I look up to him, and unfortunately I have to tell him yes. He frowns, and I can tell he wants to ask something, but he stops himself. ‘I wasn’t here with him though.’ I say.
‘I realise that.’ He says quietly. ‘So did he go to Carnell then?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And so you were friends?’
‘Yes. And then we tried the dating thing, and it didn’t work.’ I don’t really want to be talking to him about this, but I guess we should just get it over and done with, as it’s already been brought to his attention.
‘It never does.’ He says. ‘Friends turning into something more I mean.’ He says, looking at me intently, his dark eyes wide and rich in the dim light. I can’t stop myself; I push up a little and press my lips to his lightly. He smiles. ‘Looks like we’ve skipped the friend’s thing,’ he says, laughing. ‘There’s hope for us yet.’
I smile and look away a second, taking a look around the room. It’s decked out in lots of fabric, cushions everywhere and a large television suspended on the far right wall. Probably a movie room or something. It’s very intimate, sitting here with him. ‘Did you know him well then?’ I finally ask the question I’ve been desperate to ask.
‘I knew him . . . we hung out a couple times. But I didn’t know him very well, hence why I didn’t know the name of his ex-girlfriend.’
‘Would you still have spoken to me if you did?’ I ask, grinning cheekily.
He smiles. ‘Yes, I think I would. Stopping myself would have been difficult. I do, however now realise why he’s so hung up on you. Even though I really wish that weren’t true.’
‘Oh, no! Really?’ What I feared is true, and it’s not great that Clay knows about it. I don’t even want to think about it, let alone him.
‘Afraid so.’ He says, frowning again.
‘Stop that.’ I say, laughing and placing a finger to his lips. ‘The feelings aren’t mutual. He’ll get over it, and all will be forgotten.’
He sighs deeply, blowing the air out onto my hand, before kissing my finger lightly. ‘Well, I’m glad about that, at least.’
‘I want nothing to do with him anymore.’
‘How come you knew he was here, again?’ He asks, obviously more worried about this than I want him to be. So now he’s fishing.
‘I didn’t say.’ I shrug. ‘He’s the guy Evelyn wanted me to pick up. But I shouldn’t have to explain that. It means nothing.’
‘So she likes him?’ He asks, turning to face me fully, rather than side on as he had been.
‘I really don’t know. I can’t work it out. She seemed to at points, and then at others, I wasn’t too sure. She’s never shown an interest in him before. We haven’t actually seen him for over three months, and before that barely anything.’ I shrug again. ‘He’s Cole, an old friend, but not a current one. We didn’t really see each other at all after the break-up. But . . . let’s talk about something else.’
He smiles, pretending to wipe the whole thing out of his mind with a hand gesture. ‘Okay, so tell me something about you that I wouldn’t know.’ He grins.
‘Now, that’s a good track to go down. You think of one, and I’ll think of one.’ I look away from him, thinking whilst taking another look around the room. Then I realise why it feels so weirdly intimate in here – there are absolutely no windows. And I can’t hear anything from the party raging outside. ‘It’s so nice in here.’ I say quietly, ‘peaceful.’
‘Yeah, and a nice escape from what’s going on outside.’ He nudges me on the arm, getting me to look back to him. ‘But stop thinking about that. Tell me something about you.’ He smiles, and now I don’t look away, just think whilst looking at him. He runs his hand up and down my arm a couple times, whilst he looks towards me, but just past me, over my shoulder or something. I turn to see if he’s looking at anything in particular. And behind me is a really beautiful painting, it looks like a dream. That’s the only way I can describe it – full of colours and light and yet all set onto a dark background with swirling patterns working their way off the canvas. Like stars.
‘Wow, that’s gorgeous.’ I say, in awe of it. It really is as though the painter has managed to capture the magic experienced during a dream, it’s wonderful.
‘I’ve always liked it too.’ He says, sitting up a little on the couch and leaning down so that his mouth is just beside my ear. ‘It reminds me of a dream, or something magical.’
‘Exactly what I thought.’ I mumble, not looking away from the painting. But then he presses his lips incredibly lightly against my cheek, just across from my ear. I feel the sensation through my entire body. I turn towards him, looking into those profound dark eyes.
‘Where’s it from?’ I ask, and he smiles, flicking his eyes down a moment.
‘My mother painted it.’
‘Wow, really? That’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘She had an obsession with dreams and the meanings behind them. This was actually one of her only paintings that she felt was not meant to represent a dream. But I think it’s the one that captures it the most.’ He smiles, looking at it fondly. ‘She never agreed with me, but then, I was young.’ He shrugs. ‘Now that I’m older I only see it more clearly.’
‘Does she still paint?’ I ask, and then I regret it instantly. His face drops and he shakes his head a little. I am such an idiot, always my big mouth getting me stuck in these sorts of situations. He lives with his aunt and uncle, Ada! And he hasn’t told you why yet – so clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.
He sighs again, and looks up at me, his eyes saddened. ‘No, she’s . . . gone.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ I say, placing my hand over his and allowing his fingers to encircle mine. ‘I . . . sorry.’
‘You weren’t to know.’ He says, attempting a small smile. ‘It was a little over three years ago now.’
I have to hug him, I feel so awful for bringing it up. I lean over and wrap my arms around him tightly, he lets me, and brings his arms up around me as well.
‘Thanks.’ He says into my ear before kissing my cheek again.
‘She was a wonderful artist.’ I say, sitting back and smiling a little. ‘I’m sure she was a wonderful woman too.’
‘She was great, yes.’ He says, smiling fondly again. He lets out a long sigh, before taking my hand again. ‘Tell me something?’ He says.
‘Tell you what?’
‘Anything. I want to know everything about you.’
‘Um . . . I had berries and pancakes with syrup on the morning I met you at hill top.’ I say, and manage to get a smile out of him as I’d hoped. I smile too.
‘Well, I guess I should have anticipated that.’ He leans over and places a lingering kiss against my lips. ‘Anything else other than your breakfast habits?’ He asks, after accepting a kiss back.
‘There isn’t really that much that’s interesting.’ I shrug, and he shakes his head.
‘I’m sure that’s anything but true.’
‘It’s true!’ I shake my head. ‘I can’t think of anything other than my breakfast habits.’
‘Well, okay then, let’s roll with this.’ He smiles. ‘What did you have today?’
‘I didn’t have anything,’ I reply, frowning.
‘Well that sucks.’ He says, feigning annoyance, but still smiling. ‘How completely un-interesting.’ He grins. ‘No, come on, tell me something.’
‘Ummm . . .’
He kisses me again, and then moves down my chin and to my neck, making my head lift to savour the incredible feeling it evokes. ‘Um?’ He asks, stopping at my collar bone. ‘Is that a thing?’
I shake my head slightly, and he just laughs, but this time against my skin.
‘Ada?’ He whispers quietly.
‘Mmm?’ I pull from my throat as he still continues to kiss my neck. I can feel my eyes closing, my lashes fluttering as I try to keep them open.
‘I was incredibly jealous when I saw the way that guy looked at you.’ He says suddenly, his face lifted to watch mine. My eyes are open now.
‘I saw that you weren’t too pleased. You should have seen my face when I thought Gia wasn’t related to you.’ I say, laughing slightly at the fact I’m telling him this.
‘Did you think -?’
I nod, as I know what he was going to ask.
He laughs.
‘Is that your something then?’ I ask.
He smiles. ‘I guess it can be, if you want it to be.’
‘Okay, so if it is, then mine is, for now anyway . . . that . . . well, that I have not stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you.’
He just looks at me, his mouth pulled up into a slight smile. He doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips hard against mine, his hands pulling my head towards him. I kneel up and press myself against him, falling into the kiss. ‘That’s a definite something,’ he says, stopping for a moment.
‘So you appreciate that one then?’ I ask, smiling.
He nods. ‘Oh, yes.’
We sit back after a few moments longer, his arm wrapped around me and my head leant up against his shoulder.
‘Did you notice it too then?’ He asks, looking towards me, his hair all tussled and looking gorgeous.
‘Notice what?’ I ask, sitting up a little, making myself more comfortable.
‘Well, when we first saw each other.’
‘As if I could forget.’
He smiles. ‘You know, that was a weird feeling, I honestly couldn’t look away. Then you’re friend came and dragged you away.’
I laugh, nodding. ‘Yeah, that was Evelyn. I really wanted to talk to you. Know your name at least.’ I turn and face him, sitting up again. ‘You know, I can’t quite believe the Principal got me to come and meet you about the art thing. I’m really not that great. But I’m pretty glad she did.’ I say, grinning.
‘I’m glad she did too.’ Then he shakes his head. ‘And, I’m sure you’re not, she was confident that you’d be a great help for me. Honestly though . . . I think if anyone else had walked through that door other than the girl I’d been thinking about that entire morning, I think I wouldn’t have agreed to it.’
‘So you had too?’
He nods.
‘Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better. I seriously think I’ve been going ma- ’ I slam my mouth shut mid word, I really don’t want to say that out loud, he will run. I’m sure any sane guy would. ‘Oh, god, I need to stop talking sometimes.’ I say, frowning.
He says nothing, just smiles.
‘What?’ I ask, confused.
‘It’s adorable when you do that.’
‘Is adorable really the right word?’ I ask, watching him.
‘Yes, it’s great. Brilliant.’ He laughs, ‘It helps me to try and figure out what you’re thinking.’
I giggle, shaking my head a little.
‘So, you’d been going mad, had you?’ He asks, teasing.
I push him lightly, trying not to smile, but unable to manage it. ‘Stop it, it’s so embarrassing.’
‘But I know what that feels like.’ He says, grinning. He continues to look at me, for a long time without saying anything.
‘What?’ I ask, feeling self-conscious, maybe I’m pulling a weird expression or something, I sure hope not.
‘Ada, you’re so incredibly beautiful.’ He says it so quietly, and perfectly, that I feel it run throughout my entire body. He still continues to look at me. His fingers lightly trace over my own, and over my wrist – I’m scared he’ll feel my heart beat, as it’s going so fast I think it might break free.
He lifts my face to his and his perfect mouth presses down on mine. Our lips morphing together, his breath is warm and sweet on mine, yet the kiss is not gentle. There is a passion and need in his movements. His lips take me over and move to discover more of me. He reaches my jaw line and I push my hands up through his hair.
I want to savour it, to store this moment somewhere to look back on forever. A small sounds escapes from my throat in appreciation of him. His lips press on my neck and then back to my lips. I push back, my mouth over his and after what seems like hours we pull away, gasping for breath, yet hungry for more.
His hands caress my back, my neck, my face and arms. But never anywhere further – respectful of the first day. I press my hands to his face and pull him down harder onto me. He sits up and leans down further over me.
‘Stop, stop.’ I whisper, breathless. Yet still in between kisses. ‘We need to . . .stop.’ I put my hands on his arms and hold him back. ‘We can’t go any further. Not today.’ I smile, trying to make light of it. As I’m not rejecting him, I just don’t want to be ‘that girl.’
He smiles too, the one that takes hold of his whole face, his body. He’s leaning over me a little, but begins to sit back. ‘I agree.’ He sits back on his heels, moving away from me a little, yet his hands move from my shoulders to my own hands.
He lets go of my hands after a few moments, and pulls his legs up beneath him, meaning that we are close enough for mine to lightly brush against his.
‘What is it about you?’ He says, staring at me, trying to figure it out.
I shrug, smiling a little.
He shifts his position and takes my hand again, lightly caressing each finger. The feeling is so gentle and delicate, and yet it is all I feel. His skin on mine, with the thought of him feeling me on his.
‘There is something though. I feel different.’ It my wildest dreams I wouldn’t have thought he would reflect the same need and pull that I feel towards him. It’s lovely.
I nod in agreement, turning my hand over to smooth my fingers over the veins of his, his hands are so soft. He leans over to me and kisses my neck, just above my collar bone, and up to my ear.
‘Clay,’ He kisses me quickly on the cheek as if he can’t stop himself. ‘We shouldn’t.’ I say between harsh breaths he stops and sits back again. I sit back and rest beside him. His arm goes around me and holds me close.
He rests his head on mine for a moment. ‘You smell amazing.’ He inhales my sent then sits back again.
‘So do you.’ I beam across to him, and his finger once again comes to trace the line of my mouth.
‘Wonderful.’ He says, not looking from my smile. ‘You got the time?’
I reach for my phone, and pull it out the bag that I somehow still have with me. ‘No, sorry, batteries dead.’ I say, frowning, I could have sworn it had some charge left earlier.
‘Come on.’ He begins to sit up, pulling me with him. ‘You have to come with me. I’m not leaving you; some drunk kid might come and think he found an angel.’ He pulls me up. ‘And you are mine tonight. So I can’t be having that.’
I laugh at his line, and am thankful that from his tone, I know he wasn’t being serious. He takes me out of the room and into the hall, squinting in the darkness to see the clock hands.
‘Eleven thirty.’
He turns back to me, pulling my hand up and holding it to the warm skin of his cheek. Again the limited lighting in the room highlights the beauty of his features, and I’m glad he wants me to touch him, to feel the contours of his brilliant face, and rest upon his skin.
‘Ada, do you want to go somewhere? I get so claustrophobic in this place, and I want to be out with you.’ Being probably in of the largest houses I have ever been in, I would normally not associate the two things together. But from living in a house not that much smaller than this one, I can understand the affect a house of this size can have.
‘Where would we go?’ I ask, liking the idea.
‘I don’t know.’ He thinks for a moment, drawing soft circles on the back of my hand in rhythm with his breathing. ‘Let’s go back.’ He leans and kisses my palm.
‘Back where?’
‘To the clearing.’ His eyes are ablaze as he says those words, the possibility of action becoming him. ‘Where we really met.’ He laughs, ‘and where you fell off a tree.’
I hit his chest lightly, my mouth opening in surprise. ‘Do not ever speak of that again! It was so embarrassing!’
‘Don’t worry, I will.’ He says, grinning cheekily.
‘You . . .’ He steps back from me, then holds out his hand.
‘Take me.’ His wicked grin takes over again, and has me positively breathless. He clasps my hand and draws me towards the stairs.
‘Wait here.’ He says, heading inside a room, appearing moments later with another jacket on, not the gray one he had on moments ago. Either that room is his bedroom, which starts up the butterflies, or it’s a coat cupboard. But surely people, even with houses this big, don’t have walk in coat cupboards on the first floor.
As he passes me, he takes hold of my hand again and closes the door behind him. ‘Are we walking?’ He asks.
‘It’s maybe a little far.’ I say, he can’t be serious.
‘Do you want to drive, or shall I?’
‘I will.’
‘Perfect, Ada. I like a girl who can make a decision.’ He smiles at me again, ‘take me to your car.’