Let Me Count The Ways (15 page)

“All right,” I sighed, giving up at last. I took hold of his hand. “You win. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“The bedroom.” I slanted a glance at the bulge in his pants. “I’m putting you out of your misery before I send you home.”

Mike frowned. “Claire. No. If you’re too tired... we don’t have to do this.”

I smiled. “Yes, we do. Come on.”

We stripped and screwed in record time.

Afterwards, I lay in bed and watched as he dressed. “One of these days, we really should try something a little different,” I observed, yawning widely. “Like maybe taking more than five minutes to do this.”

Mike turned a reproachful gaze my way. “You wanted it fast,” he reminded.

I nodded. “I know.” I hadn’t really wanted anything, to be honest. But, hard as he was, I could hardly have called myself a friend if I’d sent him away like that. And, I have to admit, I felt tons better now myself. “Mind if I don’t get up?” I asked sleepily when he’d finished dressing.

“No, that’s fine.” He stood looking at me for a moment. “So. Thursday?” he asked at last.

I nodded, my eyes already closing. “Mm. Same bat time, same bat channel.”

“Two days,” he whispered as he leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you then.”

Mike

Two days had never seemed so long. I wish I could tell you why that was, but I can’t. Maybe it was because, in the wake of my confrontation with Claire, I was so unsettled I could barely bring myself to concentrate on anything else.

I should have been ecstatic. What had been an Impossible Dream for years and years had become reality. Yet, the fact that she wanted nothing from me but sex and friendship left me deeply dissatisfied. Because I wanted more, much more, from her. I wanted to make her mine in all ways possible. I wanted to win her love entirely.

Instead, I found myself proscribed from even trying. The restriction rankled--as good an explanation for what happened next as any other, I suppose.

Claire was nowhere in sight when I got to the studio. Rather than waste time wondering where she might be, I buried myself in my work. I made such great progress I had all but finished by the time she appeared looking red faced and breathing hard.

“What have you been doing?” I couldn’t help asking, upon noticing her condition.

She downed half a bottle of water before panting. “Exercise.”

“More Capoeria?” I not-quite joked.

She shook her head and drank the rest of the water. “Derek.”

She’d been doing Derek? “Ah.” Great. Even better. “So he’s his own form of exercise now?”

Eyes twinkling, she grinned appreciatively. “Well, I’m sure
he’d
like to think so. I sat in on one of his infamous yoga classes.”

“Oh.” I forced myself back to work, hoping the simplicity of the task would prove soothing. But the questions in my head were not so easily quelled. Finally, I had to ask. “So how come?”

Claire glanced up questioningly from her own work. “How come what?”

“This sudden resurgence of interest. All these exercise classes you’re taking...”

“It shows?” Her expression dismayed, she looked down at her body. “I know I was slacking off these past few months, but I didn’t think it was noticeable.”

I sighed. “Of course it’s not noticeable.” Not in the way she meant. How did one say,
I notice everything you do,
without sounding a little too obsessed?

When I first met Claire, she’d been a regular in Derek’s classes. Every Thursday, from what I observed. And several more times each week, from what I intuited from our conversations.

As far as I could tell, she’d dropped them all when she and Derek parted company. The fact that she’d started up again now, so soon after taking up with me--That couldn’t be coincidence, could it?

Aware that she was still gazing at me inquiringly, I shrugged. “I just wondered.”

“Well, I don’t know,” she answered, looking almost puzzled. “I guess it seemed like time.” Which was as good as saying nothing at all.

She’s perfectly free to do as she pleases
, I reminded myself.
And if she wants to spend every spare, waking moment with her former lover, who are you to complain?

Maybe she
was
making another play for him. So what? No matter how foolish I thought it, no matter how angry it made me, as no more than a friend, I could say nothing.

In fact, unless she were somehow using me to accomplish her goal, unless she’d taken up with me for no other reason than to make
him
jealous--and unless I could prove that was the case--

But, no. I would
not
think like that. It insulted us both and, besides, I was
not
about to be jealous. Although, if it turned out she preferred some steroid-enhanced, muscle-bound, wet-behind-the-ears exercise instructor to me...

“Well, I’m done here,” I said, as I closed the books and began to clear my desk.

Claire’s eyes widened. “So soon?”

I shoved the papers into my briefcase. “Not that much to do today. I was just finishing up what was left from last week, remember?”

“Oh, I remember, all right,” she said, smiling suggestively, lighting me up with just a look.

As I felt my body tighten, I frowned crossly. It really wasn’t fair that she should have this effect on me. I remembered last week too. I remembered how incredibly hot she’d been. How badly I’d wanted her then, still did now, probably always would. How she’d left the door unlocked...

I felt the color drain from my face.

“Is something wrong?” Claire asked, not smiling at all now.

How she’d left the door unlocked so that anyone could have walked right in...

“No,” I said, trying to disguise the sudden disorientation I was feeling, the sense of not knowing which way was up. I stood and reached for my briefcase. “Nothing at all.”

So that anyone could have walked right in...

Her eyes widened. “You’re leaving?”

I gazed at her helplessly, feeling lost, feeling torn. “No sense in hanging around, is there? I mean, you’re busy and... and...”

Anyone. Like Derek.

“Well, would you like to do something later?”

“Like what?” I snapped. That had to be the world’s stupidest question. Dinner? Sex? Dinner and sex? Given the parameters she’d set for us, that was pretty much all the options we had. Which should have been enough. More than enough. Which should have been fantastic. For the life of me, I couldn’t have explained why it wasn’t. I shook my head. “Maybe another time.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “Something
is
wrong. What?””

I opened my mouth to deny it again, but what would another lie accomplish? “Why’d you leave the door unlocked last week?” I asked, instead.

“What?” Red flags appeared on her cheeks. “Wh--why? What are you suggesting?”

“Did you want to get ‘caught’, is that it? Were you hoping someone would walk in and see us?”

Claire’s mouth dropped open. She looked shocked, almost stricken. For a moment, I let myself believe I’d been wrong. But no. There was too much awareness, too much guilt in her gaze for her to claim ignorance. I felt my heart sink.

“Why me, Claire? There’s something like six billion people on this planet, why’d you pick me to sleep with? Was there anything about me that attracted you other than proximity? Or was that it? Did I just get lucky because I happened to be in the right place at the right time?”

In the time it took her to blink once, the bruised look in her eyes was replaced with one of absolute fury. “Let me get this straight,” she snarled, getting slowly to her feet and planting her fists on her desk. “You’re upset with me because I slept with you? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Stop twisting things around.” But she rode right over me.

“Why, Mike? What’s the problem? Did I use you? Or manipulate you into bed? Did I take advantage of you in some fashion?”

“Cut it out, Claire.”

“What next?” she continued blithely, ignoring the warning in my tone. “Are you gonna claim sexual harassment? Or maybe you’ll just sell your story to the tabloids?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” I insisted, growing angrier by the second.
If she’s smart,
I thought,
she’ll stop this now
. She didn’t.

Instead, she smiled spitefully. “Actually, I don’t. But, if you want some free advice, I’d try the tabloids first, if I were you. They’ll publish any old shit. Harassment might be a little too hard for you to prove, especially considering how many times you thanked me.”

“All right, that’s enough!” It stung, hearing my words thrown back at me like that. I stormed over to where she stood. Unfortunately, I didn’t think to drop my briefcase first. As tightly as I had gripped the handle, I’m not sure I
could
have dropped it. Furious, I slammed the case down on the desktop. The sound of it echoed off the walls. Claire didn’t so much as flinch.

“Enough, Mike?” Her eyebrows rose. Her voice did the same. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ll decide when I’ve said enough. How dare you come in here, blustering like an old fool, accusing me of... of... of what exactly?”

“I haven’t accused you of anything,” I roared in reply.

“Oh, no?”

“No! All I want is an explanation. And I think you owe me that much.”

“An explanation for what?” she asked, her tone continuing to rise with every word.

“Why are you with me?” I repeated. “What kind of game are you playing here, anyway?”

“Games?” Claire glared at me wide-eyed. In the silence that followed, the sound of someone tapping softly on the office door could be clearly heard. We both ignored it. “You’re the one who likes to play games, Mike. And, as for why I picked you, I--I... I don’t know!”

“You don’t
know
?” My eyes felt like they might bulge out of my head. I could not believe my ears.

The door was edged open. “Excuse me,” a man’s voice murmured. We ignored that, too.

“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded. “How can you not know?”

“Easily.” Claire tossed her head. “The way you’re acting right now? I can’t imagine
what
I was thinking. Other than I must have been out of my fucking mind!”

“Claire!” the voice rapped out, sharper this time, louder. Derek’s voice.

Claire rounded on him angrily. “Well? What is it?”

“I have a class starting in just under five minutes,” Derek announced, barely controlled fury evident in his voice and in every line and muscle of his body.

“And?” she snapped impatiently, eyes flashing, when he paused.

“And that wall,” Derek growled with a nod toward the glass behind Claire’s desk. “Is
not
sound proof.” He glanced at us both and then focused his attention on Claire once again. “So you might want to keep it down up here.
Capesce
?”

“Oh, crap.” The color drained from Claire’s face and she collapsed into her chair. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Shit.”

Watching her I felt sick. Not because we’d been overheard, I couldn’t care less about that. But I could not believe I’d been yelling at her. I could not believe it had all gone to hell. I could not believe Derek’s was the lone voice of reason.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, eyes still trained on Claire’s face.

She nodded mutely, then her gaze met mine.

The tragic look in her beautiful eyes tore at my heartstrings I opened my mouth to apologize; to say something--anything I could think of--anything that might help to erase that look. But Derek’s next words put an end to that.

“You want him to leave?” His voice was flat, cold; the implication clear. At her word, I was gone. Either I’d leave on my own, or he’d make me go.

“Don’t bother,” I said, my gaze still locked with Claire’s. “I’m going.”

“Mike,” she murmured softly. “Don’t.”

But I shook my head. “If you ever do come up with an answer, Claire, maybe you’ll give me a call and let me know.”

Then I turned and left. I’d reached my car before I realized I’d left my briefcase behind. There was no way I was going back to retrieve it, however. Not until we’d both had a chance to cool down.

Claire

After Mike left, Derek quietly closed the door behind him. Then he came and sat down by my desk. “So,” he said, in a voice that strove to be conversational. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, sighing tiredly. I thought I knew--back in the beginning, when Mike had started ranting about the door, about my wanting to be seen. In his words I heard the echo of all the sordid accusations that had been thrown at me over the years:

“You liked it, didn’t you? Putting out for the camera. Your body exposed, your sex on display. All those men watching you, touching you, drooling over you. I bet you needed that. Isn’t that so, Claire? Isn’t that what you really want, what you need to get off? Isn’t that why you can’t make it with me, why I don’t do it for you?”

Well, of course it wasn’t. And as for liking it? No. In the beginning, it made me sick. Each and every time. But I got used to it. I learned.

It wasn’t really me, after all. That girl on the screen, making love to a room full of strangers, she’d just been using my body to tell her story.

“Claire?” Derek’s voice penetrated my thoughts.

I glanced up at him. “Hmm?”

“I said, are you all right?”

I nodded. “I think so. Maybe.” I’d overreacted. I could see that now. Flicked on the raw, I’d jumped to conclusions. Stupid. I’d been stupid. “It was just a little misunderstanding.”

“It sounded like it was a little more than that,” Derek answered dryly.

“Not really.” I shrugged. “People argue, Derek. They get upset. They say things they don’t mean.”

“We didn’t.”

“No,” I agreed. “We didn’t.” Not like that. Then again, what would we have argued about? I glanced at the clock on the wall. “I thought you had a class?”

Derek nodded. “I do. But they can wait.”

I stared at him, almost speechless with surprise. “They can what?”