Page 45 of Crashing Into You

I have her, I send, as though they can hear me.I have her, and I’ll take care of her.Such a strange thing to do, yet somehow, I feel as though this is the place to do it. Claire is sharing something with me, something profound, and I want to let her parents know, wherever they are, that I care about her.

“I don’t often stop here,” Claire says. “I stopped leaving flowers a long time ago. I don’t… This isn’t how I remember them.” She glances up at me, her eyes bright with tears. “I wanted… I dunno, to share it with you, though. So you know.”

I nod, the lump in my throat getting bigger. I wrap my other arm around her and she buries her face in my shoulder. I hold her, sending out that thought again, that I’m going to take care of her, that she’s doing okay, that they should be proud of her. It’s a beautiful moment, a communion of sorts. I’ve experienced a similar feeling in the water, offering my thanks to the ocean for carrying me wherever I surf, pledging to protect her. Now I want to protect Claire, too.

She lifts her head. She’s not crying, but there are a couple of tears on her cheek. I wipe them away with my thumb. “You okay? Do you want to stay a bit longer?”

“No. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming here with me.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me.”

We kiss then, and it’s more than just a press of the lips; it’s a connection beyond lust. We stay like that, our foreheads together, breathing each other in.

I am falling for this girl.

And I don’t mind one fucking bit.

ChapterTwenty

Claire

Ihurry across the street to where I left my car yesterday morning. It feels like a year ago. Time seems to be stretching out, a day with Bryce lasting forever. It doesn’t matter that I only met him just over a week ago. I feel as though I’ve always known him.

My eyes prickle with tears again at how kind he was, how gentle, when we stopped at the scene of my parents’ accident. Simon always refused to go there with me, telling me it was morbid. It’s one of the things I can never forgive him for.

I fumble in my bag for my car keys. My phone buzzes and I pick it up without thinking, my mind still on Bryce and the incredible night we spent together. Now I’m about to take that final step with him. I cannot wait, already getting damp at the thought.

But when I look at the screen I go cold.

I’m sorry Claire

I didn’t mean to upset you

I just can’t wait for you to ditch that guy and come back to me

Fuck. Him.

Before I can think too much about it, I dial the number attached to the text messages. I don’t know if Simon will answer, or what I’m expecting, really. He must have taken out shares in burner phones at this point.

He answers. “Hello? Claire, is that you?”

The hope in his voice almost undoes me. I freeze, unsure what to say. Then I remember the card, the dead spider. All the other awful things he’s done to me.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Oh my god, I?—”

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up and listen to me, because I want to make sure you hear this. I’m with someone else now. I don’t love you. I’m not coming back to you, ever. And if you don’t stop harassing me, I will get the police involved.”

There’s silence, and I wonder whether he’s hung up.

“Is that right?” His voice has changed, become flat and cold. “Does he give you pleasure, like I did? Do you share his bed, like you did mine? You told me you loved me, Claire.”

“I was wrong,” I say, just as flat, just as emotionless. My legs are trembling, though, and I have to lean on my car. “And no, I don’t share his bed. He comes in mine. And I mean that in every possible way.”