Find You in the Dark
Page 52
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I tried not to giggle. “Um, I'm fine Ruby. I think I'll just head up to Clay's room if that's okay.” Ruby waved her hand. “Go ahead. Just follow the depressing goth rock.” She laughed. I gave her another hug before going upstairs. I loved how laid back she and Lisa were. No stupid rules about girls in Clay's room and they sure as hell didn't care if we were in there with the door closed. It was nice to be treated like an adult.
I could hear Thirty Seconds to Mars blaring from the room at the end of the hall. Clay listened to his music at an ear splitting volume. How he hadn't gone deaf was beyond me. I was eager to see him, make sure he was cool after the episode at my house. Mostly I just needed to kiss him and touch him.
I pushed opened his bedroom door, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. The only light came from his dim table lamp. I could make out Clay over at his desk, his back to me.
He had no idea I was standing there. Not that he could hear anything with the music reverberating around him. I could see he was hunched over, his head down. Looking around his room, it was so Clay. Stark, not revealing much about his personality. Basic gray walls and dark blue comforter on his bed. Television on an oak dresser. No photographs or knick knacks that would help someone know the person he was.
But there, on the other side of the room, tucked away from everything else, was a little strip of wall above his desk that was literally covered with sheets of paper. I knew they showed different pictures Clay had drawn. Some in pencil, others in ink, some in charcoal. Depictions of animals, or random bridges. Some were things as small as a tiny flower, others were people he saw in town. Then there were the dozens he had drawn of me.
I had been embarrassed the first time I had seen a drawing he had done of my profile. Because there was no way I could ever be as beautiful as the way he had depicted me. Though, I couldn't help but feel flattered that he saw me that way.
Each of those pictures were done in his passionate yet precise hand. They seemed to say more about who he was than any poster or piece of furniture ever could have. It was like he shoved everything that was him into that tiny space. As though he were scared to let too much out.
I walked over to his stereo and turned the volume down. Clay jumped and quickly rolled down his sleeves. He looked over his shoulder, a strange look of panic on his face. “Mags! What are you doing here?” He struggled to make his voice even. I watched as he grabbed a tissue and dabbed at something. I frowned, instantly suspicious.
“I just wanted to see you.” I was very aware of the fact that Clay hadn't made any move toward me, which was unusual. The first thing he typically did was hurry over to me and kiss me senseless. I was definitely getting the impression that I had interrupted something I wasn't supposed to see.
“You just saw me an hour ago. You could have just called you know.” He said with a pseudo nonchalance. His following laugh was entirely too fake. “Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that I needed to make an appointment to see you.” I said blandly, moving toward him. Clay quickly got to his feet, closing the lid to a small wooden box on. “Am I interrupting?” I asked him, trying to look around him at his desk.
Clay took hold of my wrist and pulled me over to the bed. “Of course not. I was just listening to music.” He seemed nervous, which made my suspicions go through the roof. He clumsily buttoned the sleeves of his cotton shirt, something he never did.
What was he hiding?
“Do you want me to go?” I asked him, not liking his attitude. Clay's expression changed and he looked at me with tenderness. “No, don't leave. I always want to see you.” He said softly, reaching over and putting his arms around me.
I let him pull me to his chest as he nuzzled my hair. “You smell so good. Like apple pie.” He buried his nose in the tender spot behind my ear, kissing the skin gently. My body responded instantly like it always did, but I resisted the urge to get lost in him.
“Yeah, it's my shampoo. So, you were just listening to music?” I let my question hang in the air. I pulled away from him and walked over to his desk, where he had been sitting. I tried to be subtle as I scanned the items lying there. All I could see were his school books and bits of paper. And that small wooden box. I put my hand on the lid and Clay was suddenly at my side.
He put his hand on mine, putting an end to my snooping. He pulled my hands to his chest and laid them there. I could feel the beat of his heart beneath my palm. A tattoo on my skin. “Yeah, I was taking a break from my Calculus homework. It's been doing my head in.” He told me, pulling my chin with his fingers. I held back, not letting him kiss me. He would not distract me with that tantalizing mouth of his.
“Well, you're acting kind of weird. Like you're hiding something.” I said, getting to the point. I wasn't one to beat around the bush. I could feel him stiffen slightly and then forcibly relax himself. He pulled my hand toward his bed and he sat down. Scooting himself so he was leaning against his pillows. He crooked his finger at me and gave me his best come hither smile.
“Come lay with me, Maggie.” He purred. Oh, he was playing dirty. Going all sex god on me so I'd stop asking questions. Well, he wasn't fooling me for a minute. I rolled my eyes, but moved to lie beside him anyway. I was so weak.
“Don't think I can't see right through your tactics, Mr. Reed.” I said as he kissed the top of my head. “I'm pretty transparent, huh? Excuse me if I can't think of anything else but getting that shirt back off of you.” He said huskily as he played with the hem. I smacked at his hands. “Stop it.” I giggled as his fingers inched under my shirt.
I could hear Thirty Seconds to Mars blaring from the room at the end of the hall. Clay listened to his music at an ear splitting volume. How he hadn't gone deaf was beyond me. I was eager to see him, make sure he was cool after the episode at my house. Mostly I just needed to kiss him and touch him.
I pushed opened his bedroom door, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. The only light came from his dim table lamp. I could make out Clay over at his desk, his back to me.
He had no idea I was standing there. Not that he could hear anything with the music reverberating around him. I could see he was hunched over, his head down. Looking around his room, it was so Clay. Stark, not revealing much about his personality. Basic gray walls and dark blue comforter on his bed. Television on an oak dresser. No photographs or knick knacks that would help someone know the person he was.
But there, on the other side of the room, tucked away from everything else, was a little strip of wall above his desk that was literally covered with sheets of paper. I knew they showed different pictures Clay had drawn. Some in pencil, others in ink, some in charcoal. Depictions of animals, or random bridges. Some were things as small as a tiny flower, others were people he saw in town. Then there were the dozens he had drawn of me.
I had been embarrassed the first time I had seen a drawing he had done of my profile. Because there was no way I could ever be as beautiful as the way he had depicted me. Though, I couldn't help but feel flattered that he saw me that way.
Each of those pictures were done in his passionate yet precise hand. They seemed to say more about who he was than any poster or piece of furniture ever could have. It was like he shoved everything that was him into that tiny space. As though he were scared to let too much out.
I walked over to his stereo and turned the volume down. Clay jumped and quickly rolled down his sleeves. He looked over his shoulder, a strange look of panic on his face. “Mags! What are you doing here?” He struggled to make his voice even. I watched as he grabbed a tissue and dabbed at something. I frowned, instantly suspicious.
“I just wanted to see you.” I was very aware of the fact that Clay hadn't made any move toward me, which was unusual. The first thing he typically did was hurry over to me and kiss me senseless. I was definitely getting the impression that I had interrupted something I wasn't supposed to see.
“You just saw me an hour ago. You could have just called you know.” He said with a pseudo nonchalance. His following laugh was entirely too fake. “Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that I needed to make an appointment to see you.” I said blandly, moving toward him. Clay quickly got to his feet, closing the lid to a small wooden box on. “Am I interrupting?” I asked him, trying to look around him at his desk.
Clay took hold of my wrist and pulled me over to the bed. “Of course not. I was just listening to music.” He seemed nervous, which made my suspicions go through the roof. He clumsily buttoned the sleeves of his cotton shirt, something he never did.
What was he hiding?
“Do you want me to go?” I asked him, not liking his attitude. Clay's expression changed and he looked at me with tenderness. “No, don't leave. I always want to see you.” He said softly, reaching over and putting his arms around me.
I let him pull me to his chest as he nuzzled my hair. “You smell so good. Like apple pie.” He buried his nose in the tender spot behind my ear, kissing the skin gently. My body responded instantly like it always did, but I resisted the urge to get lost in him.
“Yeah, it's my shampoo. So, you were just listening to music?” I let my question hang in the air. I pulled away from him and walked over to his desk, where he had been sitting. I tried to be subtle as I scanned the items lying there. All I could see were his school books and bits of paper. And that small wooden box. I put my hand on the lid and Clay was suddenly at my side.
He put his hand on mine, putting an end to my snooping. He pulled my hands to his chest and laid them there. I could feel the beat of his heart beneath my palm. A tattoo on my skin. “Yeah, I was taking a break from my Calculus homework. It's been doing my head in.” He told me, pulling my chin with his fingers. I held back, not letting him kiss me. He would not distract me with that tantalizing mouth of his.
“Well, you're acting kind of weird. Like you're hiding something.” I said, getting to the point. I wasn't one to beat around the bush. I could feel him stiffen slightly and then forcibly relax himself. He pulled my hand toward his bed and he sat down. Scooting himself so he was leaning against his pillows. He crooked his finger at me and gave me his best come hither smile.
“Come lay with me, Maggie.” He purred. Oh, he was playing dirty. Going all sex god on me so I'd stop asking questions. Well, he wasn't fooling me for a minute. I rolled my eyes, but moved to lie beside him anyway. I was so weak.
“Don't think I can't see right through your tactics, Mr. Reed.” I said as he kissed the top of my head. “I'm pretty transparent, huh? Excuse me if I can't think of anything else but getting that shirt back off of you.” He said huskily as he played with the hem. I smacked at his hands. “Stop it.” I giggled as his fingers inched under my shirt.