The Timing Between Us

Chapter Seven

Dangerous

Reig

Clara almost walked directly into a plant on the way out of the rooftop bar.

I caught her elbow before disaster happened.

“Careful, rabbit.”

“I saw it,” she mumbled defensively.

“You were literally walking toward it.”

“It was in my way.”

I looked down at her with a smile. I couldn’t stop anymore.

Drunk Clara was still stubborn, apparently.

Good.

At least this version of her felt familiar.

The elevator ride downstairs was quiet except for Clara softly sighing every few seconds like existing had suddenly become exhausting. She leaned against the mirrored wall beside me, eyes half closed, brown hair slightly messy around her face now.

God.

She looked beautiful.

Dangerously beautiful.

And completely unaware of it.

The satin red dress clung softly to her figure beneath the dim elevator lights, elegant and subtle while still making my self-control increasingly difficult to maintain.

I forced my eyes upward.

Gentleman.

Behave.

The underground parking lot was mostly empty when we arrived.

My hand stayed lightly against the small of her back while guiding her toward my car.

“Wow,” Clara murmured sleepily.

“What?”

“You got taller.”

I huffed out a laugh. “That’s your observation?”

“You used to look annoying.”

“…Used to?”

She looked at me seriously. “You still do.”

There she is.

I opened the passenger door for her carefully.

“Your chariot, ma’am.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“A little.”

She narrowed her eyes before attempting to sit gracefully.

Attempting being the important word.

Because she nearly missed the seat entirely.

I caught her by the waist automatically.

My breath stalled for half a second.

Soft.

Warm.

Too close.

Clara blinked slowly up at me.

And for one dangerous second, neither of us moved.

Then she smiled lazily.

“You smell expensive.”

I laughed quietly under my breath. “You’re drunk.”

“Very.”

“Sit properly before you break your neck.”

“Bossy.”

Still mumbling complaints under her breath, Clara finally settled into the seat.

I leaned against the door slightly. “Seatbelt.”

She stared at it.

Then at me.

Then back at it.

“…It has too many steps.”

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Instead, I leaned into the car slowly.

“Move your hair.”

Clara obediently lifted her hair to one side.

Good decision, rabbit.

Very dangerous decision.

My hand brushed lightly against her shoulder while reaching for the seatbelt. Her perfume lingered around me... something soft and feminine underneath the faint scent of alcohol.

My face ended up too close to hers.

Way too close.

I could feel her breathing.

See every detail of her expression.

Long lashes.

Warm brown eyes barely staying open.

Pouty lips slightly parted.

Fuck.

My hand tightened slightly around the seatbelt.

Clara blinked slowly at me.

And for one reckless second, my eyes dropped to her mouth.

Close enough to kiss.

Close enough to know exactly how soft those lips probably felt.

My body reacted immediately.

Dangerous.

I stopped myself before the thought could fully settle.

Not like this.

Not when she was drunk and exhausted.

So, instead, I carefully clicked the seatbelt into place and pulled back slowly.

“There,” I said quietly.

Clara stared at me for another second before relaxing deeper into the seat.

“Thanks.”

I closed the passenger door gently and walked toward the driver’s seat, trying very hard not to think about how close I just came to kissing her after seeing her for one night.

Pathetic.

I started the engine.

Soft music filled the silence quietly.

Then I turned toward her.

“Address?”

Clara hummed sleepily.

Then suddenly

“Why did you come back?”

I blinked.

Her head rested against the seat now, eyes barely open.

“Vacation.”

“That’s stupid.”

I laughed softly. “Excuse me?”

“You already have New York.”

There it was again.

That sadness underneath her voice.

I hated hearing it.

“You make it sound like I abandoned a kingdom to come here.”

“You kind of did.”

I watched her quietly for a second.

“You think too highly of me.”

“No,” she muttered. “Everyone else does.”

The words settled heavily inside the car.

Clara stared blankly out the window now.

“I thought you’d forget about us.”

Us.

Something about that word tightened in my chest.

“Didn’t happen.”

“Why?”

Because you stayed.

Because no matter how far I went, some part of me always comes back to you.

But Clara was drunk enough already.

So I only smiled slightly. “Maybe I liked the Philippines too much.”

She frowned immediately. “Liar.”

I laughed under my breath again.

God, I missed this.

The way she talked without filters.

The way her thoughts wandered recklessly when she got comfortable.

“You know,” she continued softly, “I almost didn’t go tonight.”

“I know.”

“Mika threatened me.”

“That sounds like Mika.”

Clara sighed dramatically before turning her head toward me slightly.

“You looked too good.”

My eyebrows lifted.

“That’s your complaint?”

“You weren’t supposed to glow like that.”

I laughed properly this time.

“And you,” she continued sleepily, “you became successful and smart and pilot-y.”

“Pilot-y?”

“Yes.”

“That’s definitely a word.”

She ignored me completely.

“I hated it.”

The honesty in her voice made my smile fade slightly.

“Rabbit...”

“No seriously,” she interrupted softly. “Everyone there looked finished.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

“Clara.”

“And I’m still…” She frowned weakly. “I don’t know.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

Because suddenly everything about tonight made sense.

The drinking.

The silence.

The forced smiles.

She felt left behind.

And somehow the idea hurt me personally.

“You’re twenty-two,” I said quietly. “You’re not running out of time.”

She laughed softly.

“You sound successful.”

“You say that like it’s an insult.”

“It is tonight.”

I shook my head slightly, smiling at myself.

Then Clara suddenly looked at me again.

“You know what’s embarrassing?”

“What?”

“I used to have a crush on you.”

My entire body went still.

Clara continued before I could even process the sentence.

“Like a really bad one.”

Rabbit.

Jesus Christ.

“You used to hold my hand during field trips, and I’d think about it for days.”

I stared at the road ahead carefully.

Very carefully.

Because if I looked at her right now, I might completely lose composure.

“You’re confessing this very casually.”

“I’m drunk.”

Fair point.

“And then you left,” she mumbled quietly.

That one hurt.

Not because she sounded accusing.

But because she sounded sad.

I glanced toward her finally.

Her eyes were already drifting to shut again.

“I thought maybe…” She yawned softly. “Never mind.”

“What?”

But Clara was already gone.

Asleep.

I stared at her for a second longer before exhaling quietly.

Little rabbit.

Still talking too much.

Still saying dangerous things without realizing it.

I drove through the city carefully while Clara slept beside me.

And every few minutes, my eyes betrayed me by drifting toward her again.

Her pouty lips still slightly parted from sleep.

Cheeks warm.

Hair is messy now against the seat.

Cute.

Too cute.

And somehow unbelievably sexy at the same time.

I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel slightly.

Dangerous combination.

Especially when memories keep colliding with the woman sitting beside me now.

The little girl I missed for years no longer existed.

This Clara was softer.

Prettier.

Sadder.

And somehow that only made me want her more.

By the time we reached my condo building, I had already decided one thing.

I was pursuing her.

Carefully.

Patiently.

But definitely.

Because after tonight, there was absolutely no chance I was letting her disappear again.