Page 59 of Deafened By Silence
“I definitely have more room,” he croaks, and I lose it. My laughter fills the entire car, reverberating through the soft-top roof. A rumbling from Clay’s chest follows as he thankfully sees the funny side of his morning assault. I put my beloved car in drive and get us the hell out of dodge before I damage the poor guy any further.
There’s nothing quite like the freedom of the open road. Once we’ve left campus and stopped off at a gas station for make-shift picnic snacks, the atmosphere between Clay and I becomes light. Nothing matters but the wind streaming through the cracked windows, the vague cry of gulls and the view of the coast growing closer. The sun has risen higher, painting the waves in silver light as I pull onto a gravel lay-by.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just sit, side by side, staring out at the horizon as if the world has finally granted us space to breathe. I hadn’t noticed the weight that had been dragging me down until it just lifted. The stares, the gossip, the constant spotlight that comes from being associated with Rhys. Waversea is nothing like I expected, and maybe that’s not a bad thing. I might not be cracking down with my education the way I’d hoped, but I’ve also been studying hard for years. In an attic room, completely isolated from the world. At least now, I'm actually living.
Clay exhales softly beside me, his breath fogging the glass before disappearing into nothing. I sneak a glance at him, his features eased and soft, his dark eyes locked on the waves. Mychest tightens as I notice the vast difference in him. There’s no barrier held high, no defensive posture ready to ward off an oncoming attack. He’s simply at peace.
I leave him to his thoughts, making no rush to disturb the silence, despite the need to stretch my legs. I once shared with Clay that my parents used to take me to the beach regularly, which is partly the reason I jumped at Addy’s suggestion to come here. Now that I’m staring at the water, I don’t know if I’m ready to hear the crash of the waves again. Clayton seems to also be taking a trip down memory lane, because when he turns to look at me, his expression is stripped bare of the guarded mask he wears on campus.
“My brother’s name was Jeremy.” His eyes shift to the window, and he swallows thickly. “I just…I wanted someone to know that.” Chewing on my lip, I try my luck and press a little further. Something tells me Clay has been waiting for this.
“Do you want to tell me about him?” At Clay’s nod, I settle back and wait patiently, letting him organize his thoughts.
“He was shit scared of spiders.”
I burst out laughing, only because I wasn’t expecting that. Clayton chuckles too, reaching up to tug the beanie from his head. I don’t comment on the state of his blond waves. I find his bedhead vibe endearing. “If I was in trouble, he would take on a gang without blinking an eye, but if a spider crawled across the bed we shared, he screamed like a little girl. It was the only time I got to take care of him.” Clayton’s smile melts my heart.
Reaching over, I take his hand and squeeze tight. He suddenly looks younger somehow, as though the years of loss and betrayal have fallen away for a mere heartbeat. He squeezes my hand right back, a little hard but I don’t let it show. Instead, I brush the back of his hand with my thumb and smile encouragingly.
“I reckon he would have loved you. In a big brotherly sense.”
“Of course,” I chuckle. It’s obvious that Clayton puts his brother on a pedestal, valuing him far above himself. Perhaps that’s what draws me to him. I know all too well how easy it is to believe we are unworthy of love because those who used to give it to us are no longer around. By some stroke of luck, Clay and I have found each other instead.
“It’s okay to step out of his shadow, you know. You’ve honored him well, but I’d really like to see what Clayton Michaels has to offer.” I shift closer on instinct, my shoulder brushing his. Clay’s hand twitches, a mental block lowering behind his eyes. I can’t help but smile in response. “WWCD. What would Clayton do?”
Clay goes still beside me, his gaze sharpening as though my words have struck something deeper than either of us expected. For a moment he just watches me, those black eyes glinting with something dangerous and alive, like a storm breaking free from the horizon. Then, without warning, he shoves open the passenger door and rounds the front of the car. Tugging at my handle, I blink up in shock, the wind lapping around my face and hair.
He doesn’t give either of us the chance to overthink. His fingers wrap firmly around mine, hauling me out of the seat with a determination that steals my breath, his palm rough against my skin as he pulls me toward the cliff’s edge. Gravel crunches beneath our shoes, the salty sting of the ocean air colliding with the sound of waves crashing in my receivers.
We stop so close to the edge that my stomach flips, the expanse of sky and sea stretching out below us, terrifyingly beautiful from this vantage point. My heart is in my throat, my legs trembling as I brave a look over the ledge. The beach is far enough below that a rush of dizziness floods through me, and if it wasn’t for Clay’s hold on my arms, I might have collapsed. When he turns to me, his chest rising and falling in quick bursts,I gasp at the clarity in his face. The steadfast assurance he usually hides.
“If I were living for myself, I would risk everything to feel alive. I would take control of my fate alongside the girl I’m falling for,” he breathes. Now I understand the thrill he’s chasing. The world sharpens when you are living on the edge, fear and longing blurring until they are one of the same.
Before I can respond, Clay’s mouth is on mine. The kiss crashes into me with the same force as the ocean below, leaving no room for hesitation. His lips are insistent, desperate, tasting of salt and heat and the hunger of someone who has been starving for too long. My hands fist in the front of his jacket as though I need the anchor, as though letting go would mean tumbling straight into the sea.
For a split second I think I might fall anyway, because nothing has ever felt this overwhelming. My head is spinning, my lungs burning, but I don’t care. Each brush of his tongue, each press of his mouth, each gasp we share is a reminder that we’re alive. We’re the survivors who have been wandering blindly for too long. Maybe together, we can claw something beautiful from the wreckage we’ve been left with.
Clayton deepens the kiss, angling me closer until there is no space left between us, until my entire body is molded to his. His hand cups the back of my neck, and I let myself melt into his hold, surrendering to the wild rush that screams louder than the waves. I want to memorize this feeling, to finally be embraced by the man who has danced around his feelings for so long. To be standing on the edge of the world, lips bruised and heart thrashing until I might just burst.
Reluctantly, Clay pulls back, our lips raw and tingling, both of us breathing in an erratic rhythm. I come up blank, unable to form a single word, when Clay tilts his head to the right, pointing with a little jerk of his chin. Following his gaze, I notice a narrowtrail cut into the cliffside, jagged rocks winding down toward the beach below. It’s steep, dangerously so, but the thought of retreating now doesn’t even cross my mind.
“Come on then,” I challenge, and Clay grins like I’ve just given him permission to live. That’s a sight I’ll never tire of. Stopping only to grab my backpack and our mismatched gas station snacks, neither of us can stop reaching for the other, his hand finding my waist as I wobble over loose gravel, my fingers curling around his wrist for balance. Our touches are clumsy but constant, as though the connection so recently forged can’t be denied.
The descent is awkward, an even amount of stumbling and laughter. Clay steadies me with every slide of my boots on damp stone, the heat of his palm burning through my sweater. Our shoes finally sink into the cool sand, but there’s no time to appreciate how far up the cliffside really is. The bag is dropped in a heap, our shoes kicked off, my hearing receivers unclipped and tossed aside with the rest of our clothes until we’re stripped down to our underwear. It's sea breeze is shocking against my bare midsection, and no doubt the water will be glacial, but we don’t hang around long enough to care.
“Last one in drives back,” I call out, already racing over the sand on bare feet. I wouldn’t be able to hear Clay’s response anyway, and I’m not missing out on the chance to see him mashed up against my steering wheel. I’m already cackling when an arm winds around my waist and lifts me far too easily. Clay holds me high, cradling me as he runs straight into the tide. I scream, wrapping my arms around his neck as the sea crashes over his knees and thighs, his strides undeterred. Specks of icy water prick my body and I shiver.
“Okay, okay! You win,” I squeal and wriggle. “I’ve changed my mind! Take me back to safety.” Usually, this would have been Clay’s trigger word. He keeps me safe. He’s my valiant protector.However, this version of Clay simply cocks his brow and widens his grin. I know what he’s thinking without needing to hear it.Not a fucking chance.
I’m plunged south in the next second, my entire body dunked into the waves. To his credit, Clay comes with me, his arms remaining wrapped around me, his chest a solid presence beneath my face. All I can do is scream with delight as the salt burns my tongue and the current drags at my body. The ocean roars silently in my ears, the horizon spinning, and Clay’s laughter rumbles through his chest. I laugh with him, as though we’re both escaped a mental asylum after years of being chained.
After becoming slightly accustomed to the water, I reach up and attempt to shove Clay’s head beneath the surface. It doesn’t go well as he stands at this full height and flings me several feet. I gasp, brushing away the hair plastered to my face and splash him right right back.
“You’ve done it now!” I threaten, making a beeline for his boxers. Clay bats me away, diving and swimming further into the sea as if I won’t chase him. The sun watches us play like children, passing over the sky until hunger drives us back to shore.
Stretching across a towel, Clay hands me the fizzy sweets I picked out, but I knock them aside. There’s only one thing I’m hungry for right now. Leaping over him, I capture Clay’s lips again, propelled by sheer instinct.
Despite the worry that I won’t regain sensation in my limbs, I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to think about what will happen when we return to campus, what Rhys might say or how fragile this thing between Clay and I really is.
