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Ch. 33: Open Up

Elias' POV

"Rich people are dicks," I grumble to myself after checking my texts for the umpteenth time today.

Still no apology from Clark.

It's stupid how I've wasted all this energy on that man and his words. I don't know if I'm more upset at him for being delusional about us not being friends, or myself for taking that ridiculous fight so seriously.

If I can even call what we had a fight.

"I don't need more friends, Elias. Please remember our arrangement ends in a year. All I need is for you to do the job I'm paying you for. That's it."

I see things clearly now that I've calmed down. He's taking his frustrations out on the wrong person—me—and whatever it is that's been bothering him is the reason to blame for all this. Or at least that's what I've been telling myself because the alternative, him really seeing me as nothing, would hurt more than I care to admit.

"Your thick ass is stretching my clothes out," Perry remarks after entering the room.

The comment is toward the too-snug sweatpants and t-shirt I borrowed from him last night when I showed up on Tanya's doorstep with a ten minute heads-up, needing an escape from Clark.

"No one told you to be so scrawny." I tear my gaze from my phone to shoot him a playful glare.

"Scrawny? Don't ever disrespect me like that." He tries to flex before lifting my legs to plop down on the couch, draping them back over his lap.

His friend Tanya breezes by with a bag slung over their shoulder and keys jangling from one hand.

"Off to work," they call out. "Don't burn the place down while I'm gone, Perry. Or else your ass is mine!"

"¡Ya lo es!" Perry blows them a kiss before the front door closes. "Hey." Perry pokes at my calf, his expression morphing from playful to concerned. "Now that it's just us, wanna tell me why you're here?"

I sigh, setting my phone face down on my chest. I came here to forget about Clark. To push down the hurt feelings and all the other bullshit he's stirred up within me. Instead, my mind has been stuck on him half the time. On what I thought—what I know—we have.

Regardless, Perry deserves an explanation, especially after he spoke with Tanya to let me crash here at the last minute. I'd only met them a few times, so I wouldn't have been upset if they told Perry I needed to find someplace else to stay.

"Sorry for not saying much yesterday," I begin, picking at a loose thread on the blanket stuck beside me. "I didn't mean to be a grump."

"So why were you?"

"It's because Clark and I got into it at his office. We had a fight. Well, not really a fight, but kinda."

Perry's eyebrows shot up, a silent invitation to continue.

"Okay, it wasn't like...a couple's fight or anything. Nothing that dramatic. He just said some things that pissed me off, so I needed space away from him before I said something I'd later regret."

"I hear you," Perry mutters after a beat. "So, like, do I need to catch a charge or...? Because I'll get his ass—"

"Relax! It's really not that serious." I laugh, shaking my head. "It was more of a misunderstanding on my part."

Maybe I overstepped, again, in trying to get him to open up to me. He's made it clear multiple times that he isn't that type, at least not where I'm concerned. Maybe I care too much. No, I know I care too much.

Maybe I should start caring less.

That's what he made it seem like he wanted. So maybe I should build up walls to match his own and just focus on continuing to play the doting boyfriend in public. Keep things strictly business between us.

You tried that already, remember? Didn't work.

My phone pings with a new text, the sound sending my heart into overdrive. I open it to see that it's from Clark.

Clark: Can we talk? Please come home.

Home.

What the fuck? The man is giving me whiplash.

Home.

He's using the word as if it's a given. As if my toothbrush already lives in his bathroom and my clothes mingle with his in the closet. As if this whole arrangement isn't just temporary.

"You good?" Perry asks, studying me.

"I think so," I say while texting back.

Elias: I'll only come if you actually have something to say to me.

Elias: And it better include an apology.

Clark: It will. Promise.

Sitting up, I immediately begin to second-guess myself. Maybe I shouldn't go back. I should stay here, keep my distance until I can shake off the dangerous hope trying to take root in my chest.

"What did he say?" Perry asks, reading me like an open book.

"He wants me to come back to his place."

"You know you don't have to stay with him if you're not comfortable, right? Tanya won't mind you crashing here for a few more days. Plus, Kay said we should have power back this weekend."

I'm tempted to have this couch be my bed for a second night. But I also can't hide from my problems forever.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll be fine. We need to hash shit out like grown men, anyway." I stand and stretch, then grab my wallet and car keys off the coffee table. "I just needed some time to cool off. I'm good now."

"You sure?" Perry asks.

"Yep. Thanks for looking out." I dap him up before heading for the door. "Give Tanya my thanks again!"

The sun was clocking out by the time I pulled into Clark's driveway. I creep up to the front door, thinking Little Miss might pop out and say hello, but she doesn't make an appearance. Must be another busy night.

I barely take three steps inside the house before strong arms pull me into a crushing hug, Clark's bare chest and body wash engulf me like a long-lost friend returned from the dead, and my brain malfunctions.

"I'm sorry," Clark mumbles into my neck, his voice wrecked. "I didn't mean to be such an asshole."

Stunned, I stood frozen for a long moment, trying to remember why I was mad at him in the first place. It's hard to be when he's all cute and clingy like this.

When he finally pulls back, the sight of him makes my heart clench. There's worry in his eyes. Sadness, too?

"I missed your voice. I was so worried..." He cups my face with one hand, gaze burning into mine. "Say something. Anything. Please."

"Clark," I whisper, his words thawing me. "You can't keep shutting me out. I want to know what's going on with you. And if it's going to affect me at some point, the. I definitely have a right to know. So tell me everything. Right now."

He sighs, shoulders slumping as he steps back. "There was a security breach at work. We haven't had one in years, and I...I think someone might be after me."

"Oh, God." Ice floods my veins. "After you for what?"

"I got a weird text the other day. They threatened me to back out of the deal with Ava, or else."

"Shit. Do you think it might be a competitor trying to scare you off? Or something else?"

He shrugs. "No clue. Either is possible."

So that's why he's been so on edge lately. He was trying to shield me from all this, not push me away.

"What's the plan?" I ask, taking his hand and lacing our fingers together. "What are we going to do?"

"I already have a private investigator looking into it." He brings our joined hands up to his lips, his kiss feather-light against my knuckles. "I didn't want to tell you because you already have so much going on, and I didn't want to add more to your plate. But what I said at the office about us not being friends—"

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I really didn't."

The sincerity beaming from him threatens to undo me. This beautiful, stubborn man is always trying to play Mr. Fix It as if he doesn't have people in his corner willing and ready to help fight alongside him.

When, if ever, will he realize that he doesn't have to do everything alone?

"We're a team, idiot. How many times do I have to keep reminding you?" Leaning into him, I wrap my arms around his waist. "Stop thinking that you need to carry everything on your shoulders when you don't. Let me help carry some of the weight."

"I will if you can forgive me," he speaks softly, eyes dropping to my lips. "Can you?"

His question, not nearly as innocent as it sounds, has my thoughts churning fast. Way too fast.

"Maybe." A slow smirk curls my lips as I shut the front door with my foot. I walk him backward until his shoulders hit the wall. "Maybe not." His breath hitches as my fingers dance across his lower back, his skin warming from my touch. "Actually, you know what?"

"What?"

"I think you need to work a little harder to earn my forgiveness."

A matching grin graces his face. "I'll try my best."

When he kisses me, my brain instantly goes offline, and my body switches to autopilot.

The heat radiating from his body is something I'm desperate to drown in as we make our way upstairs in a chaotic fashion. The sound of fabric ripping and low groans punctuates each step.

We crash into his bedroom with a laugh, our limbs entangled as we fall onto the center of his bed.

"I want to watch you," I say between kisses.

"Watch me do what?" Clark, panting and needy, pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire.

Glad to see we're on the same page.

"I want to watch you open yourself up for me before I fuck you."

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