“It was just a kiss.” I downplay the situation.
He shakes his head. “He stole that kiss, and you tried to push him away. I saw what happened, Clover.”
“How did you, though? You went inside.”
“You’re right. I did, at first. But I had a feeling he was going to do something fucked up. I’m glad I listened to my instincts.”
“Me too. I don’t want to think about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t.” A fear-filled chill crawls down my spine, and I shiver.
“Don’t think about that. It’s over, and you never have to see him again.”
“Ugh, but I do. He’s right next door. It’s not like I can avoid him altogether, unless I lock myself inside the house for the rest of my vacation. I might as well go back home.” Marshall’s grip on my hand tightens, reminding me how long we’ve been joined together. Tugging free, I move across the room to put some space between us and sit on the edge of the bed. I kick my sandals off and glance down at my toes, checking for bruises.
“Did you hurt yourself?” He’s on his knees in front of me in a flash, cupping one of my feet in his palm. He carefully inspects and prods my injured big toe. “Does that hurt?”
“A little bit,” I reply.
“I don’t think it’s broken. Bend it for me.”
“It’s okay. You can go now.” I say the words with more force than I intend. Having him appear so concerned is doing funny things to my head and my heart. I can’t allow myself to spin his momentary concern into more than it is. With my parents being motivational speakers, I was raised to be eternally optimistic as a rule, but Marshall has always been my one exception. After the one “moment” we had so long ago, I allowed myself to get carried away with silly schoolgirl fantasies—until they were crushed the next day when his date showed up.
Indulging in any fantasies where Marshall has romantic feelings toward me would now make me delusional. As the saying goes—fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Marshall rises to his feet and my chin raises. Eyes sweeping up his chiseled physique, they don’t stop until they connect with his.
“If you’re sure you’re okay, I’m gonna give you some space. If you need anything, just give me a yell,” he says.
“I’ll be fine.” He nods and heads toward our adjoining bathroom. “Marshall,” I call to him. He stops, peering back at me, one eyebrow raised in question. “Thank you for everything. You got to be my knight in shining armor after all.” I smile.
His lips press together, curving slightly upward at the corners. It’s not much as his smiles go. “I’m glad I was there.” He disappears into the bathroom, and seconds later, I hear the door that leads to his room closing.
I fall back onto the bed, my legs dangling off the side. What a crazy and unexpected turn tonight took. My heart gallops as my thoughts gravitate toward Kent and the stolen kiss. There was a moment when I was convinced he wasn’t going to stop, and I was overtaken by panic. I’ve never felt so scared or weak in my entire twenty-one years. If Marshall hadn’t been there, I’m sure things would’ve escalated, and my life would’ve been forever changed.
My stomach turns as I fight with my mind to stop myself from playing out the worst-case scenario. I don’t want to put those images in my head. It’s bad enough that I can still feel his tongue battering my mouth. Covering my lips, I shiver with disgust, and tears pool in my lower eyelids. Shifting my position, I crawl onto the bed. Settling my head on a pillow, I draw my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my waist. Giving in, I let the tears loose, silently crying myself to sleep.
Chapter Five
Marshall
Stripping down to my boxer briefs, I lie down on the bed and stare up at the unblemished white ceiling. It’s still early, but after the clusterfuck that just happened, I have no desire to go out. Jesus. I scrub my hands over my face and sigh with relief that things turned out the way they did. It could’ve been so much worse.
What if I had stayed inside?
What if I didn’t listen to my gut?
I can’t even go there. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if anything bad happened to Clover.
What if I hadn’t agreed to come to the beach with Shaw?
Who would’ve saved her then?
No one. There wasn’t anyone else around to witness her struggle. Thank God I was able to put an end to the situation before it escalated further.
When I saw him force his kiss upon her, I wanted to tear him apart, one piece at a time. But once I was close enough to put my hands on him, all I could do was get him away from Clover as quickly as possible.
When I saw her fear-filled eyes staring up at me, my chest filled with a dull ache. I couldn’t keep up my indifferent front any longer. I drew her into my arms and did my best to soothe her worries and show her she was safe.
Cycled up with an abundance of adrenaline, I thought my own heart would beat free from my chest. Embracing Clover helped settle me down. She fit so right in my arms, I didn’t want to let her go. And I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Kent. I had to set that fucker straight. If he wants to walk without crutches, he’ll keep his distance from Clover.
But what if he doesn’t and I’m not here?
What if he’s emboldened by what happened and tries to finish what he started?
Fuck.
There has to be a way to make sure she has fun on her vacation without seeing Kent’s arrogant face.
Using my thumb, I move over each finger, cracking my first knuckle. It’s an old habit of mine that began when my mom left. I would lie in bed at night, my mind whirling with a tornado of anxiety-driven thoughts. Sometimes, I’d swear that my bedroom ceiling was moving closer and closer to me and I was convinced I’d be crushed. There were many times I didn’t think I could lie there long enough to make it to the next morning. Cracking my knuckles became a way of grounding me. Stumbling upon it by accident, I realized it took my focus away from my worries and kept me present in the moment. I got so good at cracking them that it barely takes an effort now.
I repeat the process on my other hand, each knuckle popping while I tick through ideas, but nothing eliminates the possibility of seeing Kent. Clover mentioned being worried about having to face him again, so I have to come up with a solution.
An ingenious idea hits me, and I grin. Picking up my cell phone, I send a text to my dad.
Me: Is anyone staying at the cabin this week?
It only takes a matter of seconds before I receive a reply. My mother may not be dependable, but my dad is solid as a brick wall. He’s the definition of always being there for me.
Dad: It’s vacant and yours if you want. No parties allowed.
I smile at his reply.
Me: I know nothing of parties. You must have me confused with Maddie.
Dad: Ha. Good one. Let me know if you’re using the cabin. You may technically be a grown man, but I still want to know where you are.
Me: Will do. Thanks, Dad.
Dad: Call me if you need anything.
Me: I will.
Dropping my phone on the mattress beside me, I smile. I have a place to take Clover. Now I just need to figure out how to get her there.