Note: I know it's been a while since I've updated this story, and I offer a thousand apologies for that. It's been a really interesting year and I'm just now regaining my footing. I hope that some of my original readers are still with me and forgive me.

This was really hard for me to write because I'm not very good at either of the key points of this chapter, so I hope this wasn't too bad. Keep in mind this gets T rated. I know, I'm a daredevil. (; You'll see.

Also, I urge you guys to review. I'm only going to continue this if people are still reading. Enjoy.

o0o0o0o

Her lips felt like fire and tasted like spice, and Eli knew it wasn't just from the bottle of vodka they'd both consumed. Her hands wildly gripped his shirt, his neck; finally tangling themselves into the locks of his hair, pulling him to a proximity of closeness that he hadn't known existed. Normally alcohol would leave him lethargic, but not now. She was too close, and her lips were too delicious. In a truly minx-ish move, Clare ran her tongue across Eli's bottom lip, bringing forth a growl that made her smirk, accomplished.

Unable to help himself, his hands wandered, dragging slowly from her neck down the front of her shirt, causing a sharp shiver to make its way down Clare's back. Ungluing his lips from hers, Eli placed kisses down her neck, nibbling on the hot flesh there, then blowing on it slightly, the contrast of hot and cold eliciting a sharp hiss from Clare's flushed lips.

"Eli-" Her voice was a sharp, high pitch. He'd never heard something so innocent and sexy (all in one) in his life, and he found himself quickly losing control to both his feelings and the carnal urge to make Clare Edwards his.

Carefully, Eli laid Clare down on the mulch, bumping his head on the playground equipment in the progress. Clare giggled uncontrollably, and Eli rolled his eyes, capturing her lips in a kiss so intense that she forgot all about making fun of him. They were walking a fine line, the fine line the two seemed to love to dwell on. They never quite crossed it, never admitted their feelings or let themselves feel.

Fuck it. So many lines had been crossed between them tonight that Eli couldn't help but decide to gamble it all. He was tired of their stupid dance. Someone had to venture off the line eventually. Slipping his hands under her thin blouse, he stroked the skin on her stomach, slowly inching upwards in a tantalizing act that made Clare literally gasp out loud.

She'd never been touched like this, he knew, and being the first one to slip his lean fingers underneath her bra, stroking the most sensitive flesh on her body and making her writhe and moan, was a bit of an ego trip. His fingers expertly teased her hard nipples, rolling the skin between his fingers in a way that made Clare's eyes roll back. She was utterly breathless, repeating his name like a mantra, and he was elated, lips sloppily laying down kisses on her neck on her collar, on the slope of her breasts, anywhere he could reach.

"Clare-" He murmured breathlessly as his hands dropped lower, ghosting the top of her jeans "I- You feel so lovely Clare, so lovely." She caught his lower lip in her teeth and his eyes rolled back, forgetting he was drunk in the quiet moans that made up the symphony of Clare. He couldn't really think through the haze of Clare and vodka, all he knew is that he wanted, no he needed Clare, more than he needed water more than he needed air, more than he'd needed anyone or anything before in his life.

Caught in the heat of the moment, he uttered the only thing that he was sure of.

"I love you."

Clare froze, her eyes opening with an alarmed expression. "Eli." Her voice shook a little. "What'dja just say?"

Dazed, he stumbled for words. "I said I love you, Clare. I love you I love you I love you." Eli was so preoccupied with the slopes and contours of her body that he didn't notice Clare's discomfort until she'd pulled away, little pieces of wood sticking out of her light curls, a disheveled mess.

"I'm drunk." She murmured, adjusting her shirt and crossing her arms around her body self-consciously.

"I know." His voice slurred slightly. "I'm not exactly sober either." Leaning in for a kiss, he was discouraged when she placed a finger on his lips, stopping him.

"Yes, but-" She clasped her arms in front of her, standing up and swaying, shock and pain etched across every inch of her face. "You're not making the biggest mistake of your life, either."

The verbal smack to his face sobered Eli up instantly. Had he really pushed her that far? He'd thought that the enjoyment had been mutual. Was it something he'd said? Thinking back, he froze in place when he realized that he'd confessed his feelings for her.

His features instantly becoming a few shades paler, he stood up, ready to explain. "Clare, I-"

"Was..." She stumbled, trying to move away from the advancing brunette. "Was this all a plan?" Throwing her hands up, tears flooded her eyes. "You thought you'd just get Saint Clare drunk and then she'd be an easy lay?"

Eli was at a loss for words.

"Cause... Cause you can't even admit that you like me without a half bottle of vodka, huh?"

"Clare, it isn't like that." He tried to explain, but she wasn't hearing it.

"I'm just... I'm just gonna go." She slurred, already making her way away from the park. "Those kinda lines don't work on me, Goldsworthy." She sneered. "Guess your... Guess that 'time' you needed to think of a way to get into my pants didn't work. Sorry."

"Clare!" He called after her, running in the direction she'd stumbled off in, but it was no use. She was gone.

And all that met him was silence.