Page 34 of Out of the Dark

Sighing, I decide I’ll make myself some dinner to keep my hands and mind occupied. The front door latches closed, signaling Andrea’s departure. But when I step out into the hallway, I see a swish of blonde hair followed by Claire’sbedroom door closing.

Fuck.

I had planned on cooking something for dinner, but a knot formed in my stomach when I saw Claire rushing into her room at the same time Andrea left. So I decide to heat up some Spaghetti-O’s instead of cooking real food, because apparently that’s the kind of man I am now. Too anxious about a woman to focus on cooking anything, and instead microwaving fake-ass tomato soup with cute little circle noodles.

But seriously, what terrible luck that Andrea left right then. There’s no way they didn’t see each other, and I don’t know why the idea of Claire interacting with one of my fuck buddies fills me with such dread.

Andrea and I didn’t even do anything, but the thought of Claire assuming we did makes guilt eat away at me.

But why? It makes no fucking sense. That is why I brought Andrea here in the first place, after all.

That little voice in my head is screaming at me to go knock on her door and explain things to Claire, but what do I say?Hey, I brought that woman over to have sex with her because I wanted to distract myself from constantly thinking about you. But don’t worry, I kicked her out before we fucked.

Yeah, that’ll go over really well.

I eat my dinner without really tasting it then rinse out my bowl in the sink. Making my way into the living room, I decide to turn on the TV and stake claim on the couch for the evening on the off chance Claire comes out of her bedroom.

I doubt she will, though. It was evident from the first week of her living here that she isolates herself when she feels unhappy. Even with as much progress as she’s made, she stilldoesn’t like me to see her in any emotional state that shows vulnerability or hurt. And I’d be willing to bet that she’s not exactly happy right now.

And it’s all my fault.

God damn it, I never should have kissed her. I don’t regret it, exactly, but… it was her first kiss for fuck’s sake. She’ll never forget that. Which means she has a lot of firsts still to come, and I hate the sick thrill that gives me—that I could beallof her firsts.

But no, I can’t do that to her. Good things never last—at least not as far as people or relationships are concerned—and I refuse to put Claire in a situation like that. My one rule is to keep things temporary and strictly physical, and she’s the type of girl who deserves love and commitment.

And I can’t be the one to give her that.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CLAIRE

"Is it okay if my classmate Chris comes over to work on our project?" I ask Mark. He’s sitting at his desk with his laptop open and a cup of coffee beside him. His office door was open, so I don’t feel too bad about interrupting his work. "We need to finish our poetry analysis, and the library at school is closed for renovations tonight."

Mark looks up from his computer screen. "Chris?"

"From my English class," I explain. "We're partners for the group project."

He takes a long sip of coffee before answering. "Sure, you live here too. You don’t need to ask me for permission. When is he coming?"

"This evening. We'll work in the living room."

Mark nods, but something in his demeanor shifts. "I'll be around if you need anything." Neither of us knows how to act after I ran into a woman in the apartment last night, but theawkward tension radiates between us as I do my best to disguise my unwarranted sense of disappointment. I choose to ignore it for now and focus on the tasks at hand for the day. I need to go grocery shopping, so I shower and get dressed before making a list of all the items that we need from the store.

Since I’m in no hurry to get back to the apartment with the weird energy and unspoken words between Mark and me, I take my time perusing the aisles at the grocery store and wonder what it would be like to live like this all the time—not worrying about money (since Mark insists on me using one of his credit cards for the groceries), being able to spend my days cooking and housekeeping while pursuing my education and eventually my career—whatever that ends up being. I know this isn’t a forever thing, obviously, but it’s nice to play pretend for a little while, imagining this could be reality for more than just a few months.

But I’ll be out of Mark’s place as soon as I can, so he can go back to his nighttime flings and I can do things for myself instead of relying on someone else.I can still live a life like this, I tell myself,just with a tighter budget. I don’t need much—just a safe place to live, the ability to afford food, and the freedom to live my life how I choose. I don’t allow myself to consider how much I might miss Mark. Thinking about that will only hurt me in the long run, and I need to be able to gain some independence eventually. I only lasted three weeks on my own before he took me in, after all.

Later that evening, Chris arrives, wearing a bright smile and carrying his backpack. His enthusiasm is infectious, and I return his grin as I let him inside. He’s always been kind to me in class, offering help when I need it and making friendly conversation.

"Wow,this place is amazing," he says, looking around the apartment. His gaze lands on Mark, who's inexplicably decided to station himself at the kitchen counter with his laptop. "Is that your dad?"

Heat floods my cheeks and I don’t know whether to laugh or hide my face. My eyes flit to Mark, who thankfully is just far enough away to be out of earshot. "No, he's my, uh… friend."

"So, like, a roommate? Not your boyfriend?"

I snort at that. "Not my boyfriend, so yeah, like a roommate I guess."

We settle on the couch with our books and laptops, and I try to focus on outlining our compare/contrast analysis of two poems by Edgar Allan Poe. But Mark keeps moving around the kitchen, making more noise than I've ever heard him make before. Every few minutes, he's opening cabinets, running water, or reorganizing something.

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