Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen Book 5)
Taming 7: Chapter 82

“I’m going to die alone with only my cats for company!”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am, Shan,” I declared from my perch under the Christmas tree. Okay, so maybe perch wasn’t an accurate word for being strewn on the flat of my back, in my unicorn onesie, with a deflated party streamer hanging out of my mouth. “I’m already a crazy cat lady.” Sighing dramatically, I reached up and petted Cherub, who was perched on my chest, purring in contentment. At least one of us was happy. “But it was cute when I had a partner in crime.”

“Does that not hurt?” Shannon asked, sounding distracted.

“Oh, indeed it does hurt, Shan,” I replied solemnly. “In fact, I don’t think I remember what it feels like to not have a pain in my heart.”

“Not your heart, Claire. Those kittens are literally ripping and tearing at your hair,” she laughed, pointing to where Tom, Dick, and Harry were using my curls as kitty toys. “You look like Medusa with your hair splayed everywhere.”

“They’re going through a challenging time,” I explained sadly. “They miss their father.” Another weary sigh escaped me. “You might think it would be me, but nope, Gerard’s the disciplinarian when it comes to dealing with these bad kitties.”

“You know, I have to admit that I never thought about it,” she chuckled and then she snapped up her phone when it vibrated on the arm of the couch.

“Let me guess,” I groaned. “It’s a text from Johnny to wish his little river a Happy New Year with a ton of smoochy kisses.”

“Actually, it is Johnny.”

“F my life, Cherub,” I whimpered. “Don’t ever leave me.”

“Claire?”

“Hm?”

“It’s like three minutes to midnight. Do you think we’ll be able to see the fireworks in town from your road?”

“Probably.”

“Oh good.” Stuffing her phone into the front pocket of her dressing gown, Shannon sprang up with a little too much pep in her step given my existential crisis that was in full swing. “Let’s go outside and watch.”

“Why bother?” I moaned. “We can just watch it on the telly.”

“Get up,” Shannon ordered with a laugh, as she reached down to grab my hand. “You are not ringing in the new year under the Christmas tree with your cats,” she added, pulling me to my feet. “We are going outside to ring it in properly.”

“Fine,” I huffed, pulling my unicorn hood up. “But I’m not even going to be cheery.” Sulking, I allowed her to push me out of the house. “And I also reserve the right to … ” My words trailed off when I stepped out of my house and locked eyes on the boy standing on the other side of the road in a kangaroo onesie. “Gerard?”

“Claire-Bear.”

“Happy New Year, bestie,” Shannon chuckled in my ear. “Love you.” She pressed a kiss to my cheek before sprinting across the road to the other boy. “Hi, Johnny.”

“Hi, Shannon,” he replied, caught her effortlessly when she threw herself into his arms. “Happy New Year, baby.”

The moment our eyes locked, the sound of fireworks erupting filled the air. Moments later, the night sky exploded with colorful sprinkles of twinkling lights.

“Gerard?” My breath caught in my throat, and I had to give my chest a little thump to reset my heart because when he raised his hand and waved at me, it flatlined.

And then he was crossing the road, walking towards me with strong, purposeful strides.

Unfortunately for me, the “ability to remain cool” gene clearly skipped me over, and every tip, trick, and lesson on seduction Aoife had given me went right out the window.

Waving back at him like a demented cat lady, I almost broke my neck in my rush to get to him, tripping over my furry slippers, and then sliding over a particularly icy patch of the driveway.

“Jesus,” Gerard chuckled, hooking an arm around my back, and pulling me to safety before I could fall on my ass. “Those slippers are an accident waiting to happen.” Setting me back down on my feet, he inspected them with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I love them.”

“You’re not supposed to tell my slippers you love them, Gerard,” I complained, fisting the front of his onesie. “You’re supposed to tell me.”

“Really?” He tilted his head to one side. “I thought that was already a given.”

My heart began to race, and I shook my head. “I, ah, I’m not, I mean, I wasn’t too sure if you still did.”

“Love isn’t a tap, Claire,” he said, closing the space between us. A swell of emotion bombarded me, threatening to consume me to the point of passing out. “It doesn’t turn off that easily.”

“No,” I agreed with a heavy sigh. “No, it doesn’t.”

“So.” Taking a safe step back, he shoved his hands into his kangaroo pouch and shrugged. “Do you want to talk?”

Yes, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but fear of chasing him off had me swallowing down my excitement and offering him a timid nod instead.

Slip-sliding across the driveway, I fell into step beside him as we embarked on the familiar route to the treehouse. It was a trip we had taken thousands of times, but this time there was a heavy weight blanketing us. Like impending adulthood and sadness and hope all weaved into one complicated weighted blanket.

“Careful,” I couldn’t stop myself from tossing out, when I climbed up first and then watched Gerard narrowly avoid that beam that had almost poleaxed him on our last venture. “Dad’s not home to save you this time.”

“Funny,” he mused, gingerly maneuvering around the beam before taking a seat on the treehouse floor opposite me. “He’s actually gone out this year?”

“Yep.” I nodded, mirroring his actions by sitting cross-legged opposite him. “He took Mam out for dinner and drinks.”

“Jesus.” Scrubbing his jaw, he glanced around aimlessly. “That’s a first.”

“First New Year’s Eve since the accident,” I agreed.

“Hm.”

Unable to help myself, I let my eyes roam all over Gerard, soaking him in, all the while resisting the urge to fold myself into his arms. There were too many unspoken words between us for that. Conversations needed to happen first.

“So, ah … ” Plucking on a loose thread, Gerard glanced around again before finally settling his attention on me. “Let’s just get this out of the way, huh?”

“Okay.” Nodding in agreement, I sucked in a sharp breath. “But before anything else, can I just say that I am so sorry for how it came out, Gerard.”

“How it came out,” he repeated slowly. “Don’t you mean that you’re sorry that it came out at all?”

“No, I mean I’m sorry for how it came out,” I confirmed, steeling my resolve. “I can’t be sorry for speaking up for you, Gerard. I won’t be.”

“That wasn’t your letter to read, Claire.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed shakily. “But it also wasn’t your burden to carry alone, Gerard.”

He stared at me for a long beat before his shoulders sagged in defeat. “I was doing okay.” He dropped his head when he spoke. “I was doing just fine, Claire.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No, you weren’t.”

“How can you say that?” he demanded, tone hard.

“Because I know you better than I know myself,” I countered, unwilling to back down in such a colossal moment. “I’m only sorry that I didn’t see the signs earlier.”

“Signs,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yes, Gerard, signs,” I snapped, tone urgent. “We’ve all let you down here. Every last one of us, and for that, I am so damn sorry. I should’ve seen the signs. I should’ve been someone you could’ve come to, but I wasn’t, and I will never forgive myself for it.”

“Claire, please.” He groaned like he was in physical pain. “Can we not?”

“We have to,” I urged, hearing the heartbreak in my own voice. “Gerard, we have to talk about this. We have to go there.”

“I’ve never hurt you,” he choked out, eyes flashing with emotion when they locked on mine. “I’ve never hurt anyone. I was being a good person, doing good things, keeping up appearances, and I didn’t need the whole fucking world knowing what a weakling I am!”

“You think you’re weak?” My mouth fell open. “Gerard, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped back. “I feel more powerless now than I did when I was seven, Claire.”

“You do?” I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling horrified. “Why?”

“Because everyone knows.” Breathing hard, he reached up and shoved a hand through his blond hair. “I am so fucking humiliated and there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s no rewind button for me, Claire. I’m going to be tarred as a victim for the rest of my life.” A pain shudder escaped him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to face school next week, much less the team, and all of my friends.”

“With your head held high,” I bit out, desperate to comfort and encourage him. “Because you did nothing wrong here!” My heart broke for him, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for his hand. “I never wanted to cause you any pain.” Thankfully, he didn’t push me away. Instead, he allowed me to entwine his fingers with mine. “But I couldn’t keep this secret.”

“I know you couldn’t,” came his broken whisper. “But now I don’t know if I can.”

I felt my heart splinter. “What does that mean?”

“I never wanted you to know about it, Claire. About that part of me. About that ugliness.” He shrugged, attention focused on our joined hands. “And now you do, I don’t know how we move forward.”

“Together, Gerard,” I urged. “We move forward together. Because I’m still right here,” I croaked out, needing him to know that I would never leave. That I would always be here by his side. “I’m still your Claire-Bear.”

“It’s different now.”

“Different isn’t bad, Gerard.”

“I don’t know if I can be your Gerard anymore.”

An internal sensation that I could only assume felt similar to that of a straw breaking a camel’s back occurred, and I erupted.

“How dare you.” Furious, I snatched my hand back and pulled onto my knees. “How dare you say that to me?”

“Claire … ”

“No, no, no.” Shaking my head, I scrambled for the opening, not stopping until I was at the bottom of the ladder and moving for the back door of my house.

“Jesus Christ, Claire, wait a minute, will you?”

“For what?” I called over my shoulder, hearing his footsteps crunching through the icy lawn. Was I exploding in frustration, or in anger, or in love? I couldn’t tell, but emotions were battering their way through my chest and out of my mouth. “For you to break up with me twice? I don’t think so, Gerard.”

“I’m trying to talk this out with you,” he snapped, catching ahold of the patio door before I could slam it shut. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? This horrible fucking conversation? I mean, this has to be what you want. It’s why you told the goddamn world about that letter.”

“No, Gerard, I told the world about that letter because I wanted to protect you! Because I wanted justice for you. Because I wanted to stop a pedophile from abusing other children! You’re having this conversation because you’re trying to block me out,” I argued back, reluctantly stepping aside for him to enter my kitchen. “You’re freezing me out, Gerard, because that’s what you do when it gets too deep. I jump and you falter.” When we were both inside the house, I slid the patio door shut with a loud thump. “That’s what you’ve always done, and I’m not putting up with it anymore.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.” I turned to face him. “I won’t apologize for what I did because I love you. Do you hear me? I love you, Gerard Gibson. I love the boy you were, and I love the man you’ve become.” Releasing a frustrated growl, I stalked towards him and planted my hands on his chest. “And I will stand up for all of your forms, baby, boy, or man! I will fight for you even when you can’t do it for yourself because that’s what best friends do.” Knotting my fingers in his onesie, I glared up at him before adding, “And I will never apologize for it.”

Stormy gray eyes locked on mine. “You can’t love me the same way.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “Because I love you more.”

“Don’t lie.” His voice was heartbreakingly vulnerable in this moment. “Please don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I love you more,” I repeated, tone unwavering. “I want you more. I am disgustingly attracted to you, Gerard Gibson, and nothing about your past can change that.”

“Claire.” When his hands rested on my waist, an illicit shiver racked through me. A mirroring shiver racked through his big body. “I just … I don’t know where I’m supposed to go from here.”

My heart broke just a little bit more from his admission, and the truth was I didn’t know either, but I knew we were supposed to go on together. So, I told him just that. “We, Gerard.” Reaching up, I pushed my hand through his hair and offered him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Where we go from here. We’re a team, remember?”

A melancholy mixture of sadness and hope filled his eyes. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“So, where do we go from here, Claire-Bear?”

“Well.” I shrugged. “I could start by wishing you a Happy New Year and you could follow it on by kissing me.”

“Is that so?” A familiar smile ghosted his lips, and I soaked it in. “Then you better start.”

Clearing my throat, I smiled up at him. “Happy New Year, Ger—”

My words were swallowed up by his lips when they crashed down on me.

Immersed in the feel of his big body pressed to mine, of his lips on my lips, and his skin on mine, I kissed him back with a hunger that bordered on frenzied. Because every second of panic, pain, guilt, and fear of the unknown that had built its way up inside of me since the dance was exploding out of my head and into this kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered, lips trailing from cheek to the curve of my neck. “It’s always been you, Claire-Bear.”

I knew he was telling the truth because it was the same for me. It had always been him. No one else got a look in.

“I just need some time to figure out who I’m supposed to be now,” he explained hoarsely when he broke our kiss. “I’ve been hiding for so long; I don’t even know who I am.” Expelling a shaky breath, he rested his hands on my shoulders and offered me a vulnerable shrug. “And I’m going to need some time to do that.”