About Time

Over the next week, they developed an unspoken routine of denial.

Daniel avoided being alone with her whenever possible.

Claire made sure it happened constantly.

She would drift into the kitchen while he made breakfast and stand just slightly too close. Sit beside him on the couch; their thighs touching. Brush against him in hallways without apologizing.

And Daniel noticed every second of it.

That was the fascinating part.

He tried not to react, but his body betrayed him relentlessly. The pause in his breathing whenever she leaned near him. The tension in his shoulders. The awkward adjustment of his pants whenever he walked quickly away.

They moved around each other carefully. Painfully politely. Like two people pretending a fire hadn’t started while the smoke thickened around them.

By Friday, Claire had realized something that was both hilarious and exciting:

Daniel was no longer in control of his own reactions.

She was.

It was about time to take advantage of that.

Friday evening, Claire came downstairs wearing one of Daniel’s old college T-shirts. The neckline hung low enough to expose the soft curve of her left breast. No bra straps. Nothing else.

The sight alone nearly ruined him.

She saw it happen immediately.

His eyes lifted from the television.

Stopped.

Dropped away again almost violently.

A tiny smile curved her lips.

“Problem?” she asked.

Daniel muted the TV. Low clatter coming from the kitchen indicated that Emily was preparing dinner.

He sat up straight. “Why are you wearing that?”

Claire looked down innocently at the shirt. “This?”

“You know what I mean.”

“It was clean.”

Daniel stared at her.

Claire could practically feel the restraint grinding inside him now like overheated machinery.

She rested one hand on her hip and pushed it coyly to the side.

Daniel inhaled sharply.

“You know,” she said softly, “you’ve started watching me constantly.”

“That’s not true.” Daniel’s expression hardened defensively. But the weakness in his voice gave him away.

Claire reached up casually, adjusting her hair behind her neck.

Daniel’s eyes followed her movement then flickered downward before he could stop them.

There.

He realized where he was looking. And it scared him.

“You need to stop doing that,” he said quietly.

“Doing what?”

“You know exactly what.”

Claire moved closer until barely inches separated them.

Daniel closed his eyes like she physically hurt him.

And when he opened them again, something inside him looked dangerously close to breaking.

Something inside Daniel finally snapped.

He was on his feet before either of them fully understood it.

He pinned her against the wall with his full body weight. His lips claimed hers, wildly, breathlessly. His hands slid under the old shirt and found nothing but bare skin.

Claire didn’t pretend to resist. She moaned into his mouth. Her hands sought his belt.

Her pulse spiraled out of control.

She could feel his heat.

“Dinner’s ready!” Emily called out. “Have you laid the table, Claire?”