Chapter 89
Claire's POV
Nathan placed the mug on my bedside table and sat on the edge of my bed, completely at ease in my personal space. The mattress dipped under his weight, the same mattress where Daniel and I had been just the night before. "We've known each other our whole lives, Claire. Why so modest suddenly?"
I didn't answer, uncomfortable with how he was looking at me—like he was trying to see through my robe, searching for evidence of something. His eyes lingered on my neck, where I knew the mark from Daniel was visible despite my attempts to hide it with the collar of my robe.
"How's your love life?" I asked abruptly, trying to shift his focus. The steam from the tea curled between us like a question mark. "You never talk about who you're dating."
Nathan's expression changed, a flash of something I couldn't read crossing his face. His fingers played with the edge of my duvet, smoothing and re-smoothing the fabric. "There's someone, but it's complicated."
"Complicated how?" The dampness from my hair had made my robe's collar feel cold against my neck. I felt a chill despite the room's warmth.
"She's... unavailable," he said carefully. "In multiple ways." His voice had a strange quality to it, almost wistful but with an edge of something darker.
I raised an eyebrow. "Married?"
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. The sound bounced off the walls, hollow and forced. "Not exactly. Just impossible."
"Nothing's impossible for a Stanton," I said automatically, repeating our father's favorite phrase. The words felt empty, a platitude that had lost its meaning.
Nathan stood up, suddenly eager to leave. The mattress springs creaked as his weight lifted. "Drink your tea before it gets cold. Goodnight, Claire."
After he left, I locked the door again, this time checking twice to make sure it was secure. I even wedged a chair under the handle, an old childhood habit I hadn't needed in years. Something about Nathan's behavior set off alarm bells in my head.
I picked up my phone, hoping Daniel might have responded to my earlier attempts to reach him, and was surprised to see two messages and a missed call that had arrived while I was in the shower and talking with Nathan.
"I'm here," read the first text.
"Was just taking a shower," said the second, sent fifteen minutes after the first.
The missed call came ten minutes after that. My heart raced as I stared at the screen, debating what to do. I started typing a message, then deleted it. The glowing clock on my phone showed it was nearly midnight—too late to call, but I couldn't help myself. Before I could overthink it, I pressed the call button.
Daniel answered on the second ring. "Claire?" His voice was low and strong, fully alert despite the late hour. The sound of it wrapped around me like a physical touch.
"Hey," I said softly, aware of how thin the walls could be. "I just saw your messages."
"I was worried when you didn't respond," he admitted. I heard rustling, like he was sitting up in bed. "I kept going over the accident in my mind, checking if I missed anything."
"I just got out of the shower," I told him, echoing his earlier message. I pulled my robe tighter around me, as if he could see me. "Got worried?"
"A little bit," he said, and I could hear the subtle tension in his voice.
Silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable but charged with unspoken words. I could hear his breathing, steady and deep. His voice had calmed me somewhat, making me feel less isolated in my locked room.
"What can you see from your window?" I asked, changing the subject to safer ground. I moved to the window but remained behind the curtain, peering through a small gap at the night sky.
I heard rustling, then the slide of a door. "Hang on," Daniel said. A moment later: "It's clear tonight. I can see the North Star."
"I see it too," I replied, looking at the bright pinpoint in the darkness.
There was an undeniable intimacy in knowing we were both looking at the same star, breathing the same cool night air. It collapsed the distance between our rooms, forging a connection that was ridiculous, sentimental, and utterly unlike me. Yet I couldn't deny the warmth spreading through me, a feeling so foreign I barely recognized it.
"See you in the morning," I said finally, reluctant to end the call but knowing I should.
"Good night," he replied, his voice warm in my ear.
After hanging up, I stayed by the window, still safely behind the curtain, confused by my own actions. When I'd opened my phone, my first thought hadn't been about stars at all—it had been about the purple plug we'd discovered in my bed that morning. The memory of Daniel's shocked face and the heat in his eyes when I'd teased him about it made my body respond instantly.
This sudden, overwhelming desire for him scared me. This wasn't just about control or power anymore. It was something else, something I wasn't ready to name.
Nathan pressed his ear against the wall, his jaw clenched tight.
"Claire," he whispered to the empty room, his fingers curling into fists, "I won't allow this."