Chapter 6
Clara didn't know what she expected to see when the door swung open. The one thing she wasn't expecting to see was Drew Redfern. That's not to say she hadn't thought about him since their encounter in the gym. She'd thought of him plenty. She'd thought about how stupid she'd been to feel so comfortable around him. This was a guy who stole cars for kicks and drove them off bridges for god's sake. He was not a nice person. So he had done her an act of kindness, and for reasons she couldn't fathom. That didn't mean the kindness would continue. She would do well to keep far away from him.
Because if she didn't, she had a troubled and horrible premonition that she might start falling for him--and that was rediculous. She didn't fall for mean boys. But there was no denying how her heart rate increased when the door opened to reveal his angular features and mop of curly dark hair. It sent the blood rushing through her veins and made her feel slightly euphoric.
Well of course he'd be at his house! Oh how she wished Brakken had been the one to come to the door. Just looking at Drew was making her become jittery and frazzled in a way that Brakken had never made her feel. Instead of feeling shy and wracking her brains for something to say--Drew was having the opposite effect on her. She was worried that if she allowed her jaw to become unhinged, she might not be able to stop talking. And she'd probably send him into a state of moody irritation.
"Hey," she managed without becoming overly verbose. "I'm here to see your brother."
"My brother," Drew repeated, nonplussed. Something flashed through his eyes.
"Yeah. To help him with his math."
Drew snorted derisively. There was no brotherly affection in his statement. "My brother doesn't have a problem with math. He doesn't have a problem with anything."
Clara bit her lip, not knowing quite how to reply. Brakken had asked for her help and now she was here. But it seemed as if she had one very testy sentinel to pass to get into the house. She had the weirdest urge to turn around and walk away as she caught a glint of light in Drew's eye. An almost territorial glint--like a hunter. She fought the urge to run. "Uhh," she said. "Can I come in?"
It was almost as if she had aroused him out of some far off state. He blinked. "What? Oh. Yeah."
Drew leaned against the door as he moved backward in an arc, allowing her room to pass. She nearly brushed against him as she moved into the grand hall. She felt the hair rise on her left arm and goosebumps arose. She would have liked to say that the reaction came because of the gorgeous room that she had stepped into. She knew it was just the opposite. Drew's arm had brushed so close that she could almost feel the heat of his skin.
She looked around in awe. The floors were all in a beautiful cherry wood color with a fancy throw rug placed in the giant living room beyond. A lofty grandfather clock took it's spot against the one wall, surrounded by bookcases. Leather couches were placed about the room and there were two coffee tables with glass panes sitting in front of the larger couches.
She thought of the dust on her shoes making imprints in the floor. She began to take them off to place them on the welcome mat.
"You don't have to do that," Drew was saying.
She did so anyway and looked at Drew expectantly. She didn't really know what to do. It almost felt presumptuous to go and take a seat at the couch without his permission. "Is Brakken here?" she asked.
Drew shook his head. "I think he's still at basketball practice. It has the tendency to run over."
There was a silence. Clara found her cheeks heating up because Drew couldn't seem to stop looking at her. Finally, he seemed to catch himself. "Oh, sorry," he said. "Why don't you sit down?"
Clara moved over to the nearest couch, falling back into its folds. She hoped that Brakken would arrive soon. She was starting to feel a faint buzzing again and she was worried where the feeling was heading. No, she decided, it wasn't a buzzing. It was a humming. She could almost see a silver cord connected to her chest...tugging. Now she was the one acting weird. She must be going absolutely crazy.
Clara swallowed and smiled faintly, trying to hide the weird feelings rising in her.
"Oh, hey!" he said, suddenly realizing himself. "Would you like something to drink? Some coke? Some juice?"
"Um, juice would be fine," Clara replied in a slightly distracted voice. She couldn't seem to ignore the buzzing in her ears or the strange tugging in her chest. It felt as though she was ballooning or something was lodged near her heart. The urge to start talking arose in her again. If she didn't do something--anything--to overide the buzzing, then something was going to happen. She didn't know what, but something.
Thankfully, Drew took that moment to turn around and move into the adjoining kitchen. She hear rummaging noises and the hum of a fridge. The buzzing seemed to receed the moment he moved out of sight. It didn't leave entirely, but at least she was able to take a deep breath and push it to the back of her mind.
Drew came back into the room, carrying a bottle of Fruitopia.
"So," he said as he began moving toward her. "You're a gymnast like Lizzie."
Clara shrugged and then her voice began to spill forth. She couldn't deny it any longer. "Yeah. I've always loved gymnastics. Especially the uneven bars. When I get up there, I get lost in the motion. It's like I'm in some other world. For once I'm not me."
She winced, expecting to see a moody expression cross his face. She'd heard many accounts from other people about Drew. They had all said he had little tolerance for incessant prattle. But she couldn't seem to stop talking. And she was telling him really personal stuff that she'd never really shared with anyone.
Drew's lip quirked in a half smile. "On the contrary. I'd never seen you look more like you in your life. You were finally able to let go and be yourself. You looked beautiful."
Clara felt her eyes widen in surprise. And not only because he'd called her beautiful, but because he was being completely sociable and amiable. This couldn't be real. She knew what people said about him.
She found herself feeling flattered. She liked the fact that Drew thought she was beautiful.
"Thanks," she said. "You seem to know a lot about the subject. You knew exactly how I should land. You know a lot about the technique. You're not a gymnast are you? Because I never really took you to be that kind of guy. Sorry!"
Drew frowned. "Sorry for what?"
"For..." Clara floundered at her own meaning. "For talking so much. I heard..."
Clara snapped her mouth shut. She knew she didn't want to finish that sentence in case what she said offended Drew. He didn't seem like the kind of guy she wanted to offend. It wasn't that she was worried about him hurting her. She'd never heard of him hurting a girl...sure, he had played some stupid and cruel jokes...but never hurt. Although she remembered some rather brutal school fights between Drew and other guys. Drew was a lot stronger than he looked. What she worried about was seeing anger within his features. She found that she cared what he thought. She cared a whole lot more than she would have expected.
"Go right ahead," Drew said, noting her pause. She knew that he had caught on to what she had been about to say. He ignored her blunder, taking no offense. "You can talk all you want. And in answer to your question, no. I hardly know anything about gymnastics. But I generally like sports--especially technique. I like to watch movement. I don't know why."
His expression told her he knew exactly why. But he wasn't going to divulge that information. She got a strange shiver between her shoulder blades. Again, she as she looked at him and could think only one word: hunter. Maybe it was his wild side that she was sensing--the bad boy in him. All she knew was that it scared her. She hoped Brakken would show up soon.
"So why aren't you on any of the teams in school?" She asked.
He shrugged. "I don't play well with others. I like individual sports."
"Oh!" He said, seeming to remember that he was still carrying the bottle of juice in his hand. He reached out to hand it to her. "Look at me just standing her for five minutes holding your juice. I'm not being a good host."
Clara found it amusing that he was trying to be a good host. Drew Redfern showing pleasantries.
He smirked as if he could see the irony of her thoughts. But that was silly. He couldn't read her mind. There was no such thing. But for some reason, the suspicion stuck with her. He and Brakken both seemed to have this uncanny ability to read people. It was like she was an open book at times. Maybe she had a more expressive face than she thought.
She reached out for the bottle, feeling the cool wet feeling in her hand.
"Thank yo--" she never finished because her fingers brushed hers.
There was the crackle of electricity exchanged between them. Suddenly the balloon in her chest seemed to expand double the size. Her muscles trembled. She could see her own shock reflected in his eyes. Something inside of her was boring through the seperation that keeps people apart.
"Clara--" Drew managed on a breath of air.
Oh no, please, I don't want this! Clara thought. Whatever was happening...she was scared of it. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life and it was about to get a lot worse. He moved his hand to clasp hers and the bottle fell to the floor. He was bowing slightly as if he was having a hard time holding up his weight. With every second the barrier between them was being drilled apart.
He was so close...their souls almost touching.
Please no, she thought again.
"It's okay," Drew whispered, reaching out to brush the hair away from her forehead with a damp cool hand. His expression told her otherwise. He was as terrified as her. The only difference was that he wasn't fighting it. His body was falling toward hers.
"Drew," she choked out.
The barrier was almost gone. It was only a frail veil between them. Whatever had been building between them was going to happen in only a moment.
The front door crashed open and they sprang apart, the moment lost.