Текст книги "Unraveled"

Автор книги: Jen Frederick

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CHAPTER NINE

Samantha

A WEEK AFTER THE HIKING trip, I still hadn’t heard from Gray. He’d mentioned that he’d see me later as he exited the Rover, but it had been a brush-off, which I hadn’t figured out right away. I kept waiting for another invitation to do something but it never came. Somehow I had made him think I was trying to jump off the cliff. He must have been pretty traumatized by the experience with the widow and, looking back, I guess I could kind of, sort of see where he was coming from. I told Eve about it while we were bartending together but she thought he was the one who needed therapy.

"Randy was right on when he pegged soldier boy for being weird. You should stay away."

"I thought you said he was perfect because he was just here temporarily."

"You want temporary? Summer league semi-pro baseball is gearing up. A new visiting team will likely show up in the bar this week. You can't get any more temporary than a one-night stand with a player who won't be on the roster the next time the team rolls into town."

"That sounds super enticing.”

"I'm sure that there are summer hobos you could try out. Do a little service project."

"Your ideas are terrible, Eve."

I kept looking over at Adam’s table, but it stood conspicuously empty. Tucker and his friends had come in one night and sat there; I stared at the table as if I could wish Gray into existence. That had never worked with Will and it didn’t work with Gray either. It did, unfortunately, make Tucker think I was ready to forgive him for ignoring his family.

“Hey, sorry again about bailing on lunch the other day.”

I started to say that it was okay but then stopped because it wasn’t okay. “I think Carolyn really could use a visit from you.”

Tucker shrugged. “She likes to see you better. You’re Will’s wife.”

"Will's wife could've used the support," I said more sharply than I intended, and then I felt bad for making him feel guilty. But I'd said it because I needed him to be there. It was tough emotionally for me but Tucker would always be the guy who was running away from all of his problems and leaving them for other people to sort out. While I admired the fact that he had gone off and pursued his dreams, a big part of me was pissed off was he couldn't be more supportive of the grief his parents were suffering. It was hard to hold up Carolyn and myself at the same time. We both could've used a bit of his support to lean on. My biggest objection against Bitsy getting involved with Tucker had more to do with the fact that I thought he was a selfish bastard then the fact that he was ten years older than her.

"Sorry," he said blandly but we both knew that he wasn't.

“Besides,” I said. “I’m not Will’s wife anymore.”

He reached out and tapped my diamond. “This says you are.”

I fisted my hand. “Maybe it’s time to take it off.”

Tucker’s eyes widened but a rush of customers cut off any opportunity to talk. By the time a lull hit, he was gone. He and his crew had vacated the patio and either headed inside or to some other bar. Tucker’s feelings for me were entirely fabricated. He, like his mother, viewed me as an extension of Will. They kept me close because I was someone who loved him and, I suppose, because I answered Carolyn’s phone calls and went to the monthly luncheons for the same reason. But I was only twenty-two and I couldn’t be Will’s widow forever. There was only a long life of loneliness if I hewed to that path.

For the last week I’d run errands for my mom's law firm and when I wasn’t tending bar, I knitted, all the while staring at the unfinished flag I'd been working on for Will when he deployed. When I realized I'd made men's socks on the second night, I resolved to hunt Gray down and make him listen to me.

I’d never finished the afghan, but I hadn’t taken it down either. It kind of paralleled my life. The act of living it had been interrupted, and I'd never quite gotten back into the swing of things. Taking down the flag wouldn’t even be that hard, but it was just one of those things I’d never gotten around to. I'd dropped out of college, abandoned the flag, and kind of holed up with my family hoping that it was all a bad dream.

Gray obviously thought I was just an emotional mess he didn't want to take on for his temporary stay. I was lonely, but I wasn’t a danger to myself. I wasn't going to kill myself, and I had never thought of it, even in some of the darkest hours of my grief. While I had wanted Will to come back to life, I guess I was too selfish to want to leave it. Being out with Gray had made me feel enervated. Hanging off the side of the cliff, feeling that weightlessness, was exhilarating. I wondered if that sensation was what Will had felt, what he chased after, and I wanted a deeper taste, a fuller understanding of it. I thought Gray could give that to me.

So I was done waiting for him. I was going to find him and ask him to spend another day with me. Yes, there were lots of guys I could pick up for one-night stands here at the bar. There was always someone at the last call who’d struck out all night and would gladly go home with me regardless of what I had in my apartment or how many rings I wore on my fingers, but I didn’t want them. I wanted this golden-eyed man who told me he’d catch me if I fell. I was determined that he not see me as a sad widow who’d tried to hurl herself off the cliff. That was not going to be his last encounter with me. I was fun, dammit. He was going to see that if I had to hold him down and motorboat him. And if he was nice, I’d give him the men’s socks that I’d started knitting the other evening.

“So you think you’re ready to take off your ring, huh?” Eve asked as casually as she could when the band took a break.

“Maybe.” I fiddled with the ring. It felt looser tonight, like I could push it off my finger with a light nudge.

Eve eyed me speculatively. “Randy’s got this friend he works out with—”

I held up a hand. “Just because I’m ready to take off my ring doesn’t mean I’m going to start dating.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means that I can’t live like Will’s coming back anymore.” I pushed the ring back down to the base of my finger. Not yet. With a shaky smile I said, “I’m not ready for a relationship but I think what Gray has in mind might be perfect for me right now.”

The next morning I contemplated the ways that I could run into him casually. I could go to my parents’ house since that was in the neighborhood where Gray was staying. He might walk by and I could pretend I was getting the mail and he could stop to talk to me. With a sigh, I realized I was going to have to go down to Adam’s house, and I had no good excuse for it. Except maybe… A thought occurred to me as I stared at my condo walls. That green felt should come down. The half-finished afghan was the first thing that needed to be packed up. I wasn’t in the mood to complete it, and the project only made me feel bad. I could wander down and see if I could borrow a ladder from Adam’s roommate, Finn. Finn was in construction, and he had to have a lot of ladders. If Gray happened to be standing nearby and heard I needed help, well, I wouldn’t refuse it if he offered.

I drove over to my parents’ house and walked into the kitchen by way of the garage, ignoring the stepladder that leaned up against one of the garage walls. Too short, I told myself. Wouldn’t reach to the top of the green felt. Adam’s house had a pool and he’d invited the staff at Gatsby’s to come several times but I’d always turned him down. I was going to pull out a swimsuit and take him up on that standing offer to swim.

Upstairs I looked at my sparsely populated closet. I had my sketchy overall shorts that Bitsy had decreed would make a farmer embarrassed, a few skirts, and a couple of pairs of jeans. I pulled out a skirt—the short circle skirt that Bitsy had wanted me to wear to lunch with Carolyn and David. I remembered wearing it during a summer festival when Will had come home from Basic and before he took off to Alaska to jump out of planes onto mountains. We'd stayed out downtown all night drinking surreptitiously from beverages Tucker had bought for us. Will and I'd gone out to the reservoir, where we'd made love in his car. It was one of the better sexual experiences I'd had with him. I was excited he was home, so excited that I didn't care what we sounded like or that we were doing it in a car and that there were other cars parked up there doing the same exact thing.

Of course that was before the cops came and told us all to go home. That's when Will said we should just get married and that I could move to Alaska with him and then we wouldn't have to "fuck in a goddamn car." Will's mouth had turned filthy at Basic. I told him that wasn't going to happen. I was going to Central in the fall and would stay with my parents. Will huffed and we'd argued and then he'd gone to Alaska. I visited him a couple of times and each time, he begged me to marry him. When he got the call to go to Afghanistan, I called him right away and told him to come home and that I'd marry him. I think I'd half hoped that if we got married he would magically not deploy, but that didn't happen. I'd waited too long and wasted so much time here, and for nothing. I’d dropped out of Central when he died, and all I've been doing since is marking time. Like knitting one never-ending chain and never tying off.

I'd never had to suffer the indignities of wondering if some guy liked me because Will had always liked me, so the feelings of uncertainty I had with Gray were new. In some weird way, I liked that. Besides, I wasn't going over to Adam's house to see Gray. No, I was going to see if I could borrow a ladder. And should Gray be there with his shirt off, looking sweaty and delicious, it was just a coincidence. I smiled mischievously to myself and pulled on the green skirt. It still fit perfectly. Underneath, I slid on the bottoms of an old red bikini. On top of the swimsuit top, I pulled on one of Bitsy’s long tanks and a loose-fitting midriff shirt. I had the choice of some grungy flip flops or canvas sneakers. I choose the sneakers.

"What is going on?"

A sharp voice behind me made me jump as I was shoving my feet into the sneakers.

"Jesus, Bitsy, why are you skulking around like a burglar?"

"Why are you wearing my shirt?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"It's ninety degrees out, and you're going for a walk wearing a skirt—and is that mascara you have on?"

I fought the instinct to shield my face from her penetrating gaze.

"Oh my God. Does the guy Mom said you were crushing on live around here?” She ran to her bedroom and started rummaging through her closet. There were no secrets in my life. I threw up my hands.

Chasing after her I yelled, “You’re not coming with me.”

"Did you go out with him? Is that what you were doing the other day? You went out with a GUY?" Bitsy virtually screamed the last part.

"I'm right here.” I tapped my ears to check that there was no damage to my hearing.

"You're avoiding the question," she yelled at me.

"Fine, yes, Gray is staying over at a friend's house."

Bitsy gaped at me and then pulled me in for a hug. “Gray? His name is a color? Wait, I don’t care. I’m so happy for you."

"Why?" Bitsy’s energy was making me smile, making me release my pent up hopes about this afternoon.

"Because, you've decided you haven't died along with Will."

I didn't have much of an answer to that so I just finished tying my shoes. “I love you, Bit by Bit,” I said and let myself out of the house. Bitsy’s groan echoed through the door and I couldn’t stop smiling.

CHAPTER TEN

Gray

BUILDING THE SLIP AND SLIDE had taken a couple of hours. The house had a long, fairly steep drive. We'd gone out this morning to the sporting goods store and bought seven king size air mattresses and several tent tarps, and a kid's bouncy house was in the process of being inflated at the bottom of the drive. The big motor required to inflate it was making it hard to hear, even at the top of the hill.

"You do this before?" I asked Bo as we surveyed our work. The mattresses had been laid end-to-end and covered much, but not all, of the drive. The pressure of one end of the mattress on the other was to keep them in place, like a stacked set of blocks. The tarps, which would ordinarily go beneath a tent, were stretched tautly across the top of the mattresses. Bo, Finn, Noah, and I had worked in pairs to drive in the stakes to hold down the tarps while Adam and Mal, the other two roommates, had made sure that the bouncy house was set up securely down at the base of the hill.

"Nope." Bo flipped the hammer in his hand. "Haul up the hoses." We'd also had to buy to extra hoses to make sure that we could hoist one to the top of the drive. The bill for all the supplies was astronomical, but Adam had paid without a blink. Bo told me in the car ride back that Adam's dad would think this was the best possible use of his money. I shrugged. Not my dime—and it did look fun as hell. We'd also bought a couple of gallons of baby oil.

Bo threw one at me. "Time to lube up. I'm sure you're familiar with this."

"Oh I am," I replied. "I always apply lube. It's the only way any chick can take my monster cock."

"Is that the pick-up line you're using now? Because it seems like you'd end up disappointing them when you get home."

"No girl has ever left my bed unsatisfied. That’s probably something you don't know a lot about."

"If you have to use lube, then I'm worried you don't know what you're doing in bed."

"Don't worry about me. I'm using lube because I'm going places no man has gone before."

"You're fucking their earhole?"

"Bo, I thought for sure we'd taught you a few things when you were in the service, but now it seems like you don't know your earhole from your asshole."

"That's not what AnnMarie was saying last night,” he said smugly.

"Actually, AnnMarie told me that she didn't realize dicks were longer than her hand and wondered if mine was bigger than average." I squirted more baby oil on the tarps. "I told her no, that you were just really small. Poor girl. Good thing she isn’t required to do a lot of math.”

Bo threw down his gallon container with a roar and dived across the mattresses and tarps to get at me, but I'd slicked the tarp with oil and he went sliding down. I bent over and laughed so hard I cried as he kept trying to climb up to get me and I kept squirting him with baby oil. Noah put an end to our fun when he came over with the hoses and sprayed us all down. I jumped onto the tarp belly first and rammed into Bo and gravity took us both to the bottom where we commenced wrestling.

Adam's shout to the top of the hill made me pause and look up. Bo took the opportunity to hit me. "Dammit, Bo, always when I'm not paying attention?"

"Pay attention then." He shoved my head down onto the tarp and got up. "One of these days you're going to fall hard for a girl and she's going to break your ever-loving heart."

"Been there, got the T-shirt. Never going back," I said as I popped up. Adam was hailing Sam. I ran up to the top of the hill, stripping off my oil-and-water-slicked T-shirt. I wasn't trying to look good for her—okay, maybe a little. I was panting and out of breath when I got to her, but I beat Adam by about ten feet.

"Sam, hey, long time," I said and rubbed the shirt on my oil-slicked hair. She reached up. I thought she was going to run her hands over my head, and I dipped my head forward in anticipation, but she didn't touch me. Instead, she drew back and showed me a blade of grass that must have stuck to my head when I was wrestling with Bo.

“Are you and Bo always fighting?” It wasn’t really a question but an observation, as if she’d encountered this type of male friendship before, and I suspected she had with Will. Before I could answer, though, Adam and the rest of the crowd had drawn level with us.

"Sam," Adam said, drawing Sam in for an easy hug. "I'm glad you stopped by. Finally taking me up on one of my offers.”

This sounded vaguely sexual and I frowned at Adam. He said he had no claim on Sam. Adam caught my stare and rolled his eyes. “Loosen up” he said silently. Rolling my shoulders, I tried to let go of the tension that had taken hold.

“How’s Finn doing?” Sam asked. Finn’s grandfather had died earlier in the spring.

"He's doing okay. He'll be glad to see you. I think you're the one person who gets what's going on in his head.” Adam took Sam by the shoulder and started walking her down the incline. The rest of their conversation was hard to hear as they merged with the larger crowd of people who'd gathered for an impromptu Friday pool party. I guess it was summer and no one had to work.

"Turn that frown upside down, Princess." Bo crept up on me. "She turn you down?"

"No." I said curtly.

"I keep telling you to save the 'let's go out for blood tests' until after the second date."

"You're an asshole, you know that right?"

"But a hot one,” he replied.

"If AnnMarie wasn't watching us right now looking like she'd stab me if I started whaling on you, I'd have my boot so far up your ass you'd be feeling it in your throat."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"How is it that you screwed half the western seaboard and still came away clean?" I asked.

"Dunno, lucky, I guess?" Bo shrugged, unconcerned. Then he turned to me. "I was lucky. I know this. I should've been more careful and I admire that you take care of yourself and the girls you sleep with. It shows that you're far more decent than I am but I also think you use this whole STI and cheating thing as a way not to get involved. So you don't want to get involved right now? That’s all good, but don't do stuff to shoot yourself in the foot. You're better than that."

A heart-to-heart from Bo. My screw ups must have been more obvious than I'd wanted. "Let's talk about Noah and what his chances of winning his upcoming match are."

"Sure, don't want to talk about your feelings, that's fine. Just know that I'm getting it regular because I know what I'm talking about."

"Bullshit, you fool." I shook my head in mock disgust. "You're getting it regular because AnnMarie didn't see me first."

Bo grunted but we were back to our regularly scheduled insults which meant all was right in our world. That Sam hung out with Adam and Finn and looked happy and relaxed didn't bother me at all. That she came by and made casual small talk with me like there wasn't an electrical current that passed between us didn't faze me. That she looked hotter than a Sports Illustrated model in her two-piece bikini that showed off a pretty impressive set of legs, a perfect gap between her thighs, and a small-but-juicy rack didn't cause me to have to go inside and jack off in the bathroom. I just did it because that's what guys do. They jerk it while fantasizing about girls that they couldn't have, but wanted so goddamned bad.

I leaned my head against the bathroom door and then carefully cleaned myself up. “Gray Phillips, you are a stupid son of a bitch,” I declared to the mirror. Bo was right. I’d been fucked up bad by a girl and it was ruining me. After my impromptu bathroom session, I wasn't sure I was relieved or discouraged that Sam was still there. I found her in the kitchen and all the jerking in the world wasn’t going to solve my problem because I could feel a semi rising in my shorts just looking at her.

“Sam.” She jumped at my over-loud voice.

“God, you scared me.” She gave a nervous little laugh. Everyone else was still outside and for once, we were alone.

“About earlier,” I started but stopped when she raised her hand, palm facing me.

“You know what. It’s fine. I can see by the crowd that you have plenty of coffee offers to choose from.” She waved her hand, gesturing toward the front lawn where people were still making use of the makeshift slip and slide.

Coffee? Shit man, she was still upset about two fuckups ago, not the most recent one. I blew out a big breath. There was a mountain of apologies and explaining I was going to have to do to make this right.

“No, there was no rejection the other night,” I said firmly. The only way to salvage this was to make sure she understood that I still wanted her. “It was a delay. The coffee wasn’t in the right mug. I needed a different mug.”

“A different mug?” She looked at me like I was crazy—and maybe I was.

I drew a hand through my shorn hair. “Yes, the one we’d used felt like someone else had drank out of it.”

“Oh, so you need a perfectly new bed, or excuse me, mug for coffee every time you have it? Good luck with that.” Sam turned and began throwing open kitchen cabinets and them slamming the doors shut. I knew she wanted me to leave, but I wasn’t going anywhere. “I mean, how many new mugs do you offer to girls you invite over for coffee?”

“A lot fewer than you seem to think, but it just looked like you weren’t ready to have coffee.”

“Wasn’t ready? I was climbing you like a pole in the hallway of the bar and even after you accused me of cheating, I stupidly issued you another invitation. I’ve never been so ready for coffee!” she shouted at me.

“I know. And I’m sorry. I want your coffee. Bad,” I pleaded.

“Well,” she huffed. “You aren’t getting any.” She slammed the last cupboard closed and stomped out.

When dusk had fallen and Adam and Finn had fired up the grill, I'd made up my mind. She needed to give me one more chance. I’d show her exactly what I was feeling. People surrounded us and there wasn't any good way for me to extricate her from Adam's side. But when everyone gathered around the fire pit, he couldn’t sit in both chairs beside her so I sat on her right before anyone else could. I’d convince her somehow that I wanted her more than anything and that all the shit she had in her condo and the jewelry she wore didn’t matter. Around the patio, the after-dinner conversation turned to zombie survivalist techniques.

"If we did live in a post-apocalyptic world, people who worked with their hands would have a better chance of survival,” Bo said. "So Noah, Gray, and I are going to be around." I think that was Bo's weak wingman attempt. Hook up with Gray, he'll save you if the zombies come after you. I wasn’t sure that was helpful since we weren’t even close to needing to jump someone’s bones for survival’s sake.

"Hey, I can kill a few with my instruments. Drumsticks or the broken throat of the guitar is going to do some damage,” Adam protested.

Sam offered her up her own viability. "Then I'd be a valuable asset. I could skewer people with my needles and knit clothes out of fibers."

"Okay, you're in," I said immediately. She cocked her head and gave it a shake like she couldn't figure me out. I was going to make it clear to her that I was interested even if I couldn't get her alone.

"What about the repopulation of the human race?" a dark-haired girl with a ruffly swimsuit that barely covered her impressive knockers said coyly.

"Do you need some instruction? I can help out," another guy joked. I kept my eyes on Sam to see if she was interested in anyone else in the group. Her eyes were pinned on a square patch of concrete between her feet.

The girl scoffed. "I don't need instruction. I'm already amazing." She stretched her arms and the move showcased her admittedly perfect form to all those around.

"That's what they all say," muttered the guy who'd been rejected.

"Oh yeah? What makes a girl good in bed then?"

This time Sam spoke up. “Yeah, Gray, what makes a girl good in bed?”

Her eyes held a glittering challenge and everything, including the meat between my legs, rose up to meet it. I jumped in, feet first, without a chute. I'd either catch the wind or smash to the ground, but she was giving me an opening whether she knew it or not. “Enthusiasm,” I responded without delay.

"She's there, doesn't that mean she wants it?" Sam said softly.

I shook my head, staring at her hard. "It's not the same thing. When you’re going down on her, she lets you know how good it feels by telling you, grabbing your head, squeezing her legs together. When you’re inside of her, she's squeezing the shit out of your piece and milking every last orgasm out of you. Guys want to see and hear and feel how hot she is for you."

"Sounds exhausting," said someone else. "What makes a guy good in bed?”

"Someone who’s paying attention.” My gaze was fixed on Sam.

"That's it?" she asked.

"Yup. Every time I touch a girl, I'm cataloguing the sounds she makes, the clenching of her muscles, how wet she is getting. It's my responsibility to make sure that she is wetter than an April shower and I do that by paying attention.”

“But you like your girls pure, right?” Sam asked sarcastically. “Virgins only?”

I shook my head. “No, absolutely not. I don't care how many partners she’s had before me so long as I’m the only one in the bedroom with her at the moment. I gotta know she’s with me every step.”

"What's your favorite position?" someone called out.

"Reverse cowgirl, am I right, ladies?" Two girls across from us high-fived. Sam shifted next to me and I waited for her to jump in but she remained stubbornly silent. The only female I wanted to know about decided she wouldn't share her opinion.

"What about you?" one of them asked.

"I like ‘em all.” Was this working at all? Or was I just making a fool of myself, trying to look boss in front of Sam? We stared at each other but I saw nothing in her eyes but a reflection of the firelight.

"But a favorite."

Without looking away, I answered the question. “The ol’ missionary is a good one. You can stare into her eyes the entire time and if you hold her legs in the right position, you can hit the A-spot."

"You mean G-spot."

"No, A-spot. It's a spot on the back wall of the vagina." I'm going to make it good for you, Sam, I told her silently. It'll all be worth it. Give me another chance.

Everyone around the fire was getting hot now, and it wasn’t just because of the flames. People were shifting in their chairs and the breathing was becoming a bit more ragged. The sex talk was hardening dicks and wetting pussies, but the only one I wanted was sitting next to me as impassive as a stone.

"I'm happy to be your test subject," offered the big-chested brunette, sitting up and swinging her legs to the side. "I'll let you know if you’re good in bed."

My desire had a name and no one else but Sam was going to sate it but this girl had put herself out there and I wasn't going to make her feel bad. I just told her the truth. "I'm out of commission now,” I admitted. Sam tensed up beside me. "I belong to someone else."

"Really? Because I could have sworn this past weekend, you were telling another girl you didn't have anyone back home."

"I don't." To get my message across to her and everyone else, I widened my legs so that my thigh brushed up against Sam's. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the brunette glower. Next to me, I heard Sam's breath catch but she didn't move away. Everyone had gotten the message.

Bo hauled AnnMarie to her feet. "Boy, I'm tired."

"Me too," AnnMarie chirped, and they both practically ran in to the house. Sam jumped up and followed them. I rose to follow but Adam put a hand on my chest.

"Just remember," he warned me. "Fragile."

When I got into the house, I didn't see her downstairs. "Where'd Sam go?" I asked Noah, who'd been sitting inside watching television with Grace.

He jerked his thumb toward the front door. "She headed out.”

Fuck me. I ran out the door but Sam was halfway up the drive by then.

“Sam, wait,” I called after her but she didn’t slow. If anything, she sped up, almost running but not quite. Clearly my fuck talk by the fire only pissed her off instead of turning her on. Had I miscalculated or what? I could either chase her down—and there was no question I could—or go back and toss myself into the pool. To hell with it, if I was going down, I was going to do it hard. I sprinted and caught her in about ten strides.

“Why are you following me?” she cried.

“I thought you understood back there that I—”

She cut me off. “I understand that you can turn your heat on and off like a light switch but I’m not that way. What do you have to be confused about?”

The unfairness of it made me explode. ”You think I’ve got it all together? Let me tell you, sister. You know why I’m struggling with the decision to stay in? Because if I do, I’ll be in charge of people. People who could die. It’s one thing to make sure that your armored vehicle works or your rifle but people, Sam! I need to make sure my team has got it all together upstairs,” I pointed to my head, “and here,” I pounded my chest.

“Because if one part of the platoon is weak, we could all be in danger. I have to make sure that everyone knows what they are doing and what they should do and how they’ll react. I’m fucking terrified of that, and I’m completely disgusted at myself for even hesitating. Hesitating can get you dead outside the wire.” I was yelling at her, but Sam didn’t move away. Her gaze, well, I couldn’t read it at that point; I was too caught up in my own misery.

“And women? Shit. My girlfriend of four years cheated on me during my second deployment with the local Marine recruiter, an officer!” I threw out my arms. “And she was going to climb back in bed with me when I got home. If it hadn’t been for the LT deciding that it’s bros before hos, I could have slept with her when she had an STI.”

Sam stood stock still as I yelled. Scrubbing my hand over my mouth, I looked around and gave a mirthless laugh, embarrassed at the shitstorm I just spewed all over her. “Sorry.” Could I pass it off as drunken behavior? I cradled my head in my hands so I couldn’t see her expression of disgust. “By the way, I’m clean,” I mumbled through my hands.

Instead of running away, Sam came closer. Her hand fell on my shoulder and then trailed down to my elbow. Looking up, I saw that she’d lost her angry and hurt expression and replaced it with a tender smile. Her other hand came up to cup the back of my neck and pull my head down to hers. There was no logic to her behavior. She should have been sprinting away from me and my mess, but I didn’t correct her. I wasn’t so stupid or so inept that I didn’t know how to seize opportunity when it presented itself. Still as a hunter lying in wait, I remained motionless as her lips brushed my cheek, her soft breath feathering across my skin. The streetlights made her skin luminous, and this close I could see her pale lashes fluttering over her eyes. Her hand pressed against my forearm for balance as she leaned in, moving her mouth from my cheek to my ear.