Chapter 42: Unexpected Passion (Part 1)

After downing just enough to feel an eight-out-of-ten buzz, Lucas swerved wildly across the nearly empty, wide street. Lucky for him, it was well past 2 a.m., and the streets were deserted; otherwise, he might already be in an emergency room somewhere.

It took him half the usual time to race back to the Johnson mansion. He stumbled out of the car, fumbling for his keys with half-closed eyes, but the keys seemed to be conspiring against him, refusing to fit into the lock. Frustrated, he kicked the door twice and then leaned on the doorbell, pressing it in rapid, demanding bursts.

Claire, who had set out a lavish spread on the dining table and waited long enough to fall asleep, stirred as the piercing doorbell shattered the silence. She jolted upright, her mind blank for a few seconds before she scrambled to the door.

*He's back!* she thought, heart pounding.

As she unlocked the door, Lucas's voice met her, harsh and impatient. "Can you be any slower? You move worse than a snail."

Claire's eyes widened as she caught sight of the bloodshot gleam in his eyes, noticing the overpowering scent of alcohol that clung to him. "You've been drinking?" she asked, surprised at how intoxicated he seemed. How had he managed to get home in one piece?

"Drinking? You think?" Lucas muttered, his lips curving into a mocking smile as he brushed past her and stumbled toward the living room. But either the alcohol hit harder than he thought, or his legs just gave up on him because the next thing he knew, he was tipping backward.

Reacting instinctively, Claire rushed forward and caught him as he fell, barely managing to cushion his weight. However, as she steadied him, their combined momentum toppled them both to the floor.

"Ugh…" Claire groaned, feeling the impact radiate through her body as Lucas's full weight landed on her. *Ouch! Could this give me a concussion? Or maybe I've cracked a rib,* she thought, grimacing in pain. Even her chest ached. But… why did her chest hurt?

Looking down, she realized that Lucas's head had landed squarely on her chest.

*Oh no!* A mix of embarrassment and pain flooded her senses. No wonder it hurt so much.

"Mr. Zeller?" She lightly patted his head, trying to rouse him, but he remained motionless, draped across her as though he'd passed out entirely.

*Did he hit his head?* Panic surged through her as she carefully shifted his head off her chest and onto the floor. "Mr. Zeller, wake up! Open your eyes!" she called, her voice tinged with urgency.

Just as Claire was about to start worrying even more, a pair of strong hands wrapped around her neck, pulling her downward. Before she could process it, his lips were on hers, warm and insistent, with a hint of alcohol on his breath. The suddenness of his kiss made her gasp softly, a reaction he took full advantage of as he deepened the kiss, his lips exploring hers with unrestrained fervor.