Free Night Fury: First Act by Belle Aurora Page B

stop myself from getting defensive. A warm hand comes over mine, and I look up into Clark’s eyes. He utters, “It’s okay. I would’ve done the same thing.”
    My gaze moves to my garden—my pride and joy—and without permission, my mouth opens and reveals things I never intended to share. “I had the biggest crush on you.” I smile into the night. “You were my guy, but you didn’t even know it. I was fifteen when I saw you for the first time. I knew what Mirage was and why you were there, but I was never allowed near you, and I think in a lot of ways that made you safe. You were a really safe person for me to have a crush on.”
    He smiles sadly, and I know this isn’t something he wants to hear.
    I go on, “Then came time for my first initiation mission, and I had to work with you. And when I got to know you...” I pause for a moment, unsure if I want to tell him anymore. Acting against my gut feeling, I tell him honestly, “...I thought you were amazing, everything a girl could ever want in a guy. You were super smart and sweet. You were attentive and gave me your time, and I,” I swallow hard and whisper, “I was in love with you, for a very long time.”
    Clark sucks in a quick breath. I can feel his eyes on me when he mutters, “I feel like there’s a but in there somewhere.”
    A small smile tilts my lips. “But a lot has happened. It’s been years, and what happened with James...it hurt. There was a long time where I questioned my every feeling, because it felt like everything was a lie, and...” my heart sinks as I realise now is the time to be honest, cruelly so, “...and I forgot about you. You drifted into the background. I was locked out of Mirage and focused on training. I didn’t want to love you anymore, and subconsciously, I think I stopped.”
    The silence wraps around us in a cocoon of discomfort, but if I have to be here with anyone, I’m glad it’s with Clark. He has a way of making a person feel better, just by doing nothing other than being in their presence.
    A minute passes. Then two. Finally, he speaks gently, “This is so fucked up.”
    That being the farthest thing from what I imagined he would say, a startled laugh flies out of me. Relief loosens some of the tension in my chest. “Yeah. It is. Fucked. Totally.”
    Clark smiles that mischievous smile I love and mutters, “God, it was fun watching you be all jealous over me.”
    Infuriating man. “I was not jealous.”
    He bumps me with his shoulder. “You were. Which brings up the questions: why were you jealous, and why do you care so much?”
    Frustration causes me to bark out, “I don’t care!”
    In a moment of serene clarity, my mind’s eye winks at me as the answer is presented plain and simple.
    My brow furrows. I blink and whisper, “I don’t care.”
    I don’t care. Not even an iota. I don’t care if Clark is dating Michelle.
    I’m not in love with Clark.
    “I’m sorry, Clark. I don’t care.” I look over at him and my heart skips a beat.
    The hurt written on his face is impossible for him to mask. His brows rise as he mutters, “Wow. Ouch.”
    There is one thing I feel I need to do to prove this sudden epiphany.
    “Kiss me, Clark.”
    His brows almost hit his hairline. He sputters, “W-what?”
    I shrug. “Kiss me. Please.” When all he does is blink and look at me like I’ve lost my mind, I add in complete seriousness, “I need you to do this. It’s the only way I’ll know for sure. Please, kiss me.”
    He swallows, leans forward and stops a hairs breadth away from my lips. His breath warms me as he whispers, “I’ve wanted to do this for years.” Then his lips are on mine.
    This is not the gentle kiss I had imagined almost a million times over. This kiss is desperate and forceful, as if he is begging me to love him. And it makes my heart hurt.
    My mouth opens to his, and the tip of his tongue darts out to coax mine.
    It’s pleasant. And warm. And inviting—in a very platonic way.