Chapter 22: CHAPTER 22

Leaning against the wall, Cross watched her in the narrow closet. His keen eyes had already adjusted to the dimness; all darkness save the thin bar of light from beneath the door and a sliver through a high window.

She'd been waiting for him when he came inside: bra off, top unbuttoned, and a flirtatious remark about not wearing any underwear. But he'd only shoved his hands in his pockets instead of in her, and he answered with a response that had her straighten in apprehension–”We need to talk.”

His presence wasn't here out of desire. Today he came to tie loose ends, Clara had been so convinced he was sexually frustrated, but if that were true, this would've been the perfect outlet. He could've easily let her go down on him-let her do what she was so eager to offer without expecting anything in return.

She thought she could control him that way. But it only made her hate herself afterwards. Especially when the post-nut clarity hit and all he gave her in return was indifference. She sensed his detachment, yet kept offering herself in more desperate ways, doing everything she could to keep this thing alive.

But today he'd make it clear. In person. Because apparently, declining through texts and ghosting hadn't been enough.

She slipped her bra back on, allowing her breasts to hang openly as she adjusted it. Beckoning him with slow, deliberate movements to reconsider. When her hand brushed him and met only softness, irritation flashed in her eyes.

"I heard rumors about you and Clara," she said after a moment, pretending disinterest. "They say you're dating."

He really wished she would mind her own business. Now it was Clara. Before it was Jennifer. Atbone point she had even stupidly asked if he had something with Hilary.

His boredom was obvious. "Oh."

Her jaw flexed. Though she worded it as a statement, he knew it was her way of asking if it was true. She always asked about other girls, as if his answers might reveal somne hidden promise between them.

Another reason why he wanted to cut this off, he didn't want anything to disrupt his fine hold on Clara.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" she pressed.

He shrugged. "There's always rumors about me. No point in censoring this one."

His response seemed to vex her. Her hands fisted in rage. She held herself together, but it was obviously a tenuous hold. He should've known better than to think she could emotionally handle their arrangement.

"It's time to cut things off." His voice was calm and non-derogatory. Not everyone could do the no-strings attached and he understood that.

This made her panic even more. Her eyes widened in shock intermingling with fear. "What? No!" she exclaimed, and he had to give her a look so she'd lower her volume and not bring attention to this hidden room.

"You're getting attached."

She glared. "I’m not. I'm not looking for anything between us. I'm just a girl with needs and you happen to be a good lover," she miffed, lifting her chin.

He laughed softly. She was a horrible liar. "Either way, I'm done. I'm not into it anymore."

"That's not true," she insisted. "You'll regret breaking this off. You love what we have."

Cross had to stop himself from laughing. Their encounters were sub-par at best, but he'd keep that to himself. The least he needed was a crying girl.

"It's fine," he said lightly. "I can manage."

Just as he was about to reach for the door her hand stopped him.

"Please don't do this," she begged. Her plea confirmed it further. He definitely needed to break this off.

"There are other fishes in the sea, doll. I'm not the only guy in this school with a dick."

Her stance was unwavering, "Continue this for one more week. Just one. And I promise I'll tell you something you want to know."

He arched a brow, cynical. "And what would I want to know so badly?"

"I’ll tell you why Clara got her makeover," she whispered.

He scoffed. "I could careless that Clara learned the art of lip-gloss and wearing a dress. She looks the same."

Her fingers tightened on his shirt. "What if I told you she didn't do it for herself. That it has to do with you?" she said desperately.

That made him pause. He was curious of what went on in Clara's pretty little head. But why hear it from someone else when he could ask her directly?

It was more satisfying to make her talk, to watch her squirm under his gaze and react to his touches. The memory of her flushed cheeks and careful, polite tone stirred something in him. It made him want to unravel her.

For the longest time she'd been the only girl who kept him at arms-length. Friendly, playful, sometimes competitive, but never crossing that line of friendship. He enjoyed her company, even looked forward to it, but when she changed her clothes and drew every guy's attention, something inside him snapped. Clara had always been beautiful... but strictly off limits. She was a good girl, and good girls like her shouldnt mix with his kind.

But that didn't mnean she could just...go off and explore with someone else. The thought alone caused his pulse to hammer with irritation. Because a genuine girl like her could actually pull off a healthy relationship. Steady, loyal, the kind men didn't walk away from. Not unless they were an idiot like Kevin.

Who he'd hope after that experience she'd stop that desire for a boyfriend. But no. There she was again, actually looking for someone serious.

That, coupled with these boys' awareness of Clara, awakened an ugly, possessive part in him that really wanted to make her his before anyone else could.

Especially after that moment in the closet, the feel of her body pressed against his, her breath catching when he touched her, the scent of her hair. He really wanted to kiss her then, to claim that first kiss for himself. For girls like her, firsts were unforgettable.

He wanted to imprint himself in a way she couldn't cover up like she did with makeup. Something that made her remember him-and made everyone else stay away. Whatever it took. Even if it meant letting go of the lifestyle he was so familiar with.

"Cross?"

The girl drew him back from his musings. In the end, he made gesture to the door and smiled. "Ladies first."

If there was truth in her words, he'd much rather find out himself.

She bit her lips and drew in a breath, eyes wet with tears. "Wait, I have one more thing to say…"