28
JOHNNY
Icould watch Claire get ready for days, even if she’s irritated. It only makes her that much cuter in my eyes.
“I have no clue what I’m going to wear.” She snatches another thing from her closet and tosses it onto the floor behind her where a pile of stuff already sits.
I try to hide my smile with my hand from my spot in the corner.
She goes over to her bed and dramatically falls onto her back, spreading her arms out beside her. “It’s not fair.” She props herself up and glares at me. “You spent a total of five minutes getting dressed and you look likethat.”
I laugh and adjust the collar of my dark button-up, fixing my chain in the process. "Okay, first of all, you're out of your mind. Secondly…" I let out a breath and get up to walk over to her closet. "What about this?" I pull out a black, long-sleeved polyester crop-top that she's overlooked like twelve times. "And that high-waisted skirt you had on earlier?"
Claire stares from the shirt to me, then back to the shirt. “I totally forgot I had that.” She hops up from the bed and rushes over to snatch it out of my hand. “You’re the best.” She kisses my cheek and goes to the bathroom to try it on.
I’d like to think she’s being modest, but I have a feeling the real reason she’s changing in the other room is so I can’t see her arms.
“Claire,” I say to her as she’s shutting the door.
“Yeah?”
When I don’t respond, she pokes her head out. “What’s up?”
I glance down pointedly at the oversized sweatshirt she’s been wearing all day.
She lowers her voice. “I don’t want you to see it.”
I step forward, closing the gap between us, the bathroom door the only thing in the way. “Please.”
She sighs and steps back, allowing me entry. She sits down on the edge of the tub, and grabs the cuff of her hoodie, pulling the sleeves up on both sides.
I force myself not to react externally, not wanting to affirm whatever worries she has about showing me. It’s a difficult thing to do, though, when my eyes settle on the red and purple skin covering both of her arms—something that I could have prevented if I would have been a little bit quicker, a little more perceptive to what was going on.
“Does it hurt?”
She bites at her lip. “Not really.”
There’s no way she’s telling the truth. I’ve been covered in stuff like this pretty consistently since I got involved with Franklin, and I’m well aware of how shitty it feels.
I drop to my knees between her legs and gently take her hand into mine. I reach forward and kiss both arms. “Never again, okay?” I look up at her and will her to understand. “This will never happen again as long as I have anything to do with it.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Tears well in her eyes, and one rolls down her cheek.
I wipe it away. “I’m stuck with you, remember?”
I don’t really know when it happened, the shift in dynamic—maybe it was always there. This finality to us. This unspoken bond that forged us together. I tried like hell to shove it aside, to avoid it and be without her. But it was like I never had any control over the outcome at all. We were going to find our way to each other regardless.
Surrendering to her was the best thing I’ve ever done.
* * *
“So, what’s the plan, since you’re clearly the one in charge here?” I offer her my arm and she slides hers in. I’m extra careful to not apply too much pressure.
When I suggested the outfit to her earlier, I never imagined she’d lookthisfucking good. I’m suddenly regretting going out in public at all. I’d rather keep her tucked away safely for as long as possible.
But Claire’s beauty is not something that can be contained, and walking out into the world with her by my side, I couldn't possibly feel any luckier. Some guys want to control their women, disallow them from dressing up and going out.
Me? I’m proud as fuck to say that she’s with me.