Page 7 of Pretty Ruthless

Chapter 7

Dawson

She’s learned a thing or two too? What the fuck does she mean by that? The idea of someone else getting her sighs and moans makes me rabid, I obviously knew in the last ten years that it’s a possibility but her all but confirming it hurts like hell.

I’ve only slept with two people in the past ten years and neither one of them is Crew’s mom. Jasmine, a single mom from a town over who brings her car for an oil change to the garage has been the only person on my roster for a long freaking time. She comes every three months for a tune up and a “tune up” if you know what I mean, and then we both go out merry ways but Claire could be getting dicked down by dudes daily if not weekly, I’d be none the wiser.

She looks beautiful up on stage with her dark hair down around her shoulders and tight cropped style jeans on, her top is black and it offsets the deep blue of her eyes. Yeah, there’s no way in hell she’s been celibate since the last time we were together. Being with someone for the first time, like we did, is kind of like building a house from scratch, you know every nook and cranny, how the wiring works and if something’s not working you know how to fix it. Her leaving was like selling that house on short sale. No one benefited from it, and you don’t even get to know the new owners.

Claire grabs the mic from the stand and when the music starts I immediately know it’s going to hurt like a bitch.

Her voice is soft as she starts the opening lines of ‘Strawberry Wine by Deana Carter’and I don’t have to guess why she picked this song. It’s us, in reverse. She left and I have to drive by the hotel every single day.

Her eyes hold mine while she sings just like I did with her and it feels like there isn’t a soul in the room other than the two of us. My whole body tingles the same way it used to when I’m around her. I don’t realize I’ve left my seat until I’m standing in front of the stage, mesmerized by her, just like I always was, just like I always will be.

The song ends and the crowd erupts in cheers for her. She smiles at me and then at them, clearly embarrassed. She places the mic back on the stand tentatively and steps back to walk off the stage but before she can take the steps down I grab her wrist and pull her body to mine. A whoosh of air leaves her as her chest collides with mine, she tilts her head up and when her eyes meet mine confusion swims in them.

“We can’t do this,” she whispers, there’s a plea in her tone, she knows how this ends just like I do.

“No, we shouldn’t do this,” I correct, leaning forward so my lips are almost touching hers, “but we absolutely can.”

I release her wrist, giving her the option to pull away if she wants to but….she surprises me. Grabbing a handful of my hair, she pulls my lips to hers, I barely have time to register what is happening as her soft lips meld with mine. The tip of her tongue touches my lips and her taste lingers in my mouth, I lose control of the situation and dip her back, my palm settling in the middle of her back for support as I kiss her with everything I’ve got. Years worth of hurt and animosity bleed into the kiss and I wouldn’t be surprised if our mouths didn’t actually taste like heartbreak. Cheers from the crowd crackthrough the bubble we’re in and I pull away first, breaking the spell. When I open my eyes and look down at her I realize what a colossal mistake I’ve just made. I’ve been here before, I know what losing her feels like and I don’t know if me or my liver would survive it.

“That was really fucking stupid,” I say out loud, I meant to say it in my head but my brain and my vocal chords aren’t playing the same game.

“You can say that again.” Claire agrees, pulling herself up from the dip position.

“I didn’t mean-“ I start, but she holds up a single polished finger stopping me.

“Don’t.” Claire hisses, taking several steps back from me before turning and stomping back to the table. She grabs her bag from the chair and heads for the door. I watch her walk away from me just like she always does and for the first time in my life I decide I don’t like the way the back of her head looks, I’m tired of seeing her back and I’m really freaking tired of being the guy holding the end of the god damn rope.

I push the door open and the sunlight burns my eyes, I raise a hand up to cover the sunlight as I scour the parking lot looking for a feisty brunette runaway. I spot her a few hundred feet away from me, hobbling through the dirt parking lot in her heels.

“Claire!” I yell, hoping, fuck praying, she stops. I take off towards her, my boots hitting the ground heavily as I take wide strides towards her. She stops at the door of what I assume is her car and waits for me. When I finally get close enough to her I see that her tiny fists are balled at her sides and anger radiates off of her like a thick red cloud.

“I hate the back of your head.” I say when she’s within hearing distance. Wind whips around us as the sky starts to darken, “I hate that the last image I have of you is always the back of your fucking head.” I clarify.

“What?” She guffaws, her head reared back like she’s been slapped.

“You’re always running away from me, from this.” I make a back and forth motion between the two of us. “You feel it, you can’t lie to me and tell me you don’t.”

“Of course I fucking feel it,” she snaps, “we’re fire and gasoline, the heat between you and I will burn us to the ground, dammit Dawson!” She yelps.

“Let it. I heard once that you get three types of love in your lifetime, the early one, the one that hurts, and the one that’s forever,” I exhale loudly, as the rain starts to fall slowly around us, “what if all three of those loves are in one person?”

“We can’t, it’s a catastrophe waiting to happen, look at us, we’re already at each other's throats.” Claire exclaims, lifting her face towards the sky as the raindrops fall.

“That’s who we are babe. It’s always been like this, always will be. We’re volatile.”

“And that’s what you want?” She says incredulously.

I shrug, “I just want you. In any capacity I can have you.” I know right here and now that she’s going to shred my heart and leave it on the side of the road on her way back to San Francisco.

“Can I show you something?” I ask, timidly. If she says no, it’ll hurt but it won’t be the end of the world.

She twists her lips in thought, I can see on her face that she’s wondering if this is a good idea. It’s not. It’s never going to be. But fuck it.

“Please?” I ask again.

---