her hands on the table. “Why?”
Why I was worried about her?
“Because as much as I care about Asher, I know he’s the devil when it comes to women.”
“So you were worried about Asher. Not me.”
Not true. “I was worried about you, too.”
“Why?” Claire asks again as she turns to face me. “Why should you care? You’re not my brother. You’re not my best friend. I don’t mean anything to you.”
“That’s not true,” I tell her. “I’ve known you for most of your life. I helped take care of you when you were sick. I helped fix your bike. I helped you with homework. I cheered for you when you were on the soccer team.”
“Wow. It sounds like I put you through a lot of trouble. No wonder you got sick and tired of me.”
I give her a puzzled look. “What?”
“We’re friends on social media but you’ve never once sent me a message.”
Because I didn’t have anything to say to her.
“Not even on my birthday,” she adds.
I didn’t think she was expecting a greeting from me, especially since she must get dozens each year.
“And since I’ve arrived here, you’ve barely spoken to me. You know, if you had been talking to me, I wouldn’t have been talking to Asher in the first place.”
Why haven’t I been talking to her? I saw her when she arrived with Joel. I should have approached her then, talked to her. But I didn’t. Why?
It’s strange. Before tonight, I never had a hard time approaching her. But the first time I saw her in her red dress, I froze. When I saw her alone, I wanted to talk to her but I just couldn’t come up with anything to say because my heart was pounding so loudly I couldn’t hear myself think. Even now, it’s trying to break free of my chest so fiercely that it’s almost painful to breathe. My skin burns all over.
Claire isn’t the problem. It’s me.
I comb my fingers through my hair and grip the strands on the nape of my neck.
“I’m sorry, Claire. I wasn’t avoiding you. I swear. I just…” I draw a breath. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.”
“And?”
“You look very different,” I tell her honestly.
For a moment, Claire falls silent. Then she nods slowly.
“You mean because I don’t have my braces anymore?” She points to her teeth. “Or is it because of all this makeup that I know how to wear now?”
I let out a breath of relief and smile because she doesn’t sound pissed anymore.
“And because you’re wearing heels.” I glance at her feet. “You used to hate them.”
Claire shrugs. “Well, I still hate blueberries.”
I chuckle because I remember the face she used to make when Joel would try to force her to eat some.
“And I still save the lime-flavored Skittles for last because they’re my favorite. And I still suck at chess. I’m still the girl you taught how to ride a bike and who listened to you play guitar. I’m still the girl you used to help with math homework and the one who used to sulk when she lost at soccer. I’m just… all grown up now.”
Yes, she is, I agree as my gaze wanders to that tear-shaped opening in front of her dress where I can catch a glimpse of just a bit of her cleavage. I quickly pull my eyes away.
“So there’s no need for you to treat me like a stranger, Ryker,” Claire tells me.
I nod. “Yeah. I was a jerk.”
She chuckles. “Actually, you were acting more like a jealous boy—”
She stops abruptly like she’s just run out of air. I, too, find my breath cut off as my chest feels like it’s imploding from the impact of what Claire was about to say—and realizing she’s right.
I was acting like a jealous boyfriend.
And all of a sudden, everything makes sense. And then it doesn’t.
“Claire, I…”
In my haste to clear things up, I bump into the table against the wall. The crystal goblet on it topples over, hitting the candy bowl beside it. It cracks and starts to roll over the edge. Claire lunges forward to save the goblet but it slips through her fingers and shatters on the floor into a hundred pieces.
Fuck.
I stand still, staring at the mess as my thoughts race to come up with my next move. Then from the corner of my eye, I see red.
Blood.
Somehow, in her attempt to keep the goblet from falling, Claire cut a finger. And she hasn’t even realized