8. Sam
Chapter 8
Sam
Sam
I think I’ve been body snatched and I need your help. Call me, please.
S am quickly tapped out a text to Lana before the last traffic light leaving Monroe turned green.
He needed to speak to someone who didn’t purr, know when he was a little gassy after eating too many cheese quesadillas, or turn into a giant, hairy, attractive beast man, or else he might go mad.
Silas wanted Sam to meet his parents.
Even more alarming, Sam wanted to meet Silas’ parents.
Worst of all, Sam had agreed to meet Silas’ parents.
They hadn’t even fucked yet. They hadn’t even kissed yet.
They’d held hands!
What the hell was this? Four days ago, Sam was doing everything he could to avoid Silas as much as possible, and now he was meeting his family?
Had he slipped into a Seven Brides for Seven Brothers alternate gay universe? Had Silas come to claim him as husband and husband, forever bound in flannel and chaste hand-holding?
Except without all the cooking and cleaning and misogyny. Sam would die before he dated a man who didn’t know how to take care of himself.
You folded Silas’ laundry two days ago. And the man thinks it’s acceptable to use two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.
Sam had actually wept when he saw the bottle in the shower.
The fact that Silas’ hair was somehow still soft and shiny and gorgeous while Sam’s felt simultaneously dry and greasy after only four days of use was an even more upsetting mystery than where all the sleeves to those stupid hoodies had gone.
The lobotomy. Where was the lobotomy when he needed it most?
And some real fucking shampoo and conditioner, please.
Once again, they were flying down the highway back to Silver Rapids for the most recent emergency. Except this time, Sam followed behind Silas in his car.
He really should be more concerned about whatever heinous new detail was about to be unveiled, which would probably lead right back to Cain, but he was so out of his depth with Silas and desperately needed a second opinion.
He answered the phone call on the second ring. “Ok, I’m going to explain a situation to you and I want you to help me figure out what’s going on,” Sam greeted in a rush.
“Well, I know you haven’t been body-snatched. No one else would ever ask me to be their voice of reason,” Lana replied.
Sam rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see. “So there’s this guy.”
He cringed at the screech ringing through the car speakers. “EEEEEEEEE!!! I knew it. I knew you were keeping something from me. Tell me everything. What’s his name? Is he rich? How big is his dick? Oh God, is he one of those flannel-wearing mountain men? You live in Alaska, of course, he is. Is he this “Alpha” guy you’ve been having mind-blowing orgasms thinking about for the last few months? Because I’ve kept tabs on your recent uptick in subscribers, and you’re good, but you’re not that good. That shit is real.”
Sam blushed. “Hey, I can fake moan with the best of them.”
“That’s not fake.”
Sam shouldn’t be surprised she’d caught on that he was using… source material when scripting his recent audios. In fact, most of them weren’t even scripted at all. He’d just let himself imagine Silas in all the many ways he wanted, and hit record. His audios were doing well because of it—listeners loved to hear real pleasure.
Which wasn’t always a reality for him.
Not because he didn’t enjoy the process or was incapable of experiencing pleasure through performing, but because the minute he made orgasming a source of income, it inherently became work. And sometimes that meant performing even when he wasn’t feeling all that hot and bothered.
In fact, depending on the scenario he was acting out he sometimes used several microphones to record vocals and ambient noise at once and then layered in the, well, slick sound effects afterward on a separate track. It created a more polished product, but meant he was focused on ensuring all the moving parts were in place rather than the thrill of the moment, so to speak.
Sam huffed. “Whatever. That’s neither here nor there. So yes, I met this guy a few months back. We were… chatting.”
Chatting wasn’t the right descriptor for the intense chemistry and intimacy that had ignited between them last spring, but he didn’t think he had words to explain that.
“And then there were… circumstances which made it so we kind of stopped seeing each other until a few days ago,” he finished.
“What circumstances kept you apart? Did he ghost you? Ohhhh, did you ghost him?”
“Umm…”
Well, I borrowed money from his uncle, who’s this evil crime boss wolf-man guy. Silas can turn into a wolf-man too, except it’s actually hot when he does it? Anyway, I didn’t know he was Silas’ uncle at the time, but now I owe him a mysterious favor and Silas has been trying to stay away from him his whole life, so if I stick around I’ll only be bringing more hardship with me. Which he definitely doesn’t want. Oh, and I needed the money because I did something I deeply regret, and this shitty guy I met in a bar named Derek knows about it and blackmailed me over it for a year, and I gave him all my savings to keep quiet. Also, someone crashed a car into my apartment and then ran off and I’m not sure yet if it’s related.
“…Nothing all that interesting, but it was a me thing. Sort of. I knew someone who used to know him, and thought it would be best if we stayed away from each other so it wouldn’t become awkward.”
“You knew someone who used to know him? Like an ex?”
Sam guffawed. “God no. His uncle.”
“So you were dating his uncle? Yes, I can see why that would be awkward.”
“NO! I wasn’t dating his uncle.”
“Ok. So you knew his uncle, and that’s a problem because…?”
Sam sighed. “Look, I can’t explain any more than that. It was just best that I stayed away. But now I’m living with him, and he’s asked me to meet his family, and I don’t know what to do about that. Tell me what to do about that! What is this?”
“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. You’re living together? I thought you said you weren’t talking. What changed?”
Sam cringed. “We aren’t living together, living together. Something happened to my apartment, and I needed somewhere to stay. And he showed up and helped me, and was wearing this stupid sleeveless hoodie that made him so unfairly hot, and I had to take an anxiety pill, so I was all sleepy and I may have said his wood was really big and then he tucked me into his warm bed.”
A few beats of silence passed before Lana spoke. “There’s so much to unpack there, it’s going to take me a fucking minute. But… Do you want to stay with him? Do you like being around him?”
Sam squirmed in his seat. “Yes. Yes, I do, but I’ve kept away for a reason. How can I just let all that go?”
Lana sighed. “Well, obviously I don’t understand all of the circumstances, and I know you haven’t ever been one for serious relationships before. But maybe that was less of a you thing and more that you just hadn’t found the right guy. If you’ve been hung up on him for months, even after staying away, I don’t think you should ignore that.”
“Even if he deserves better than all the baggage I bring to the table?”
“If he’s been hung up on you this whole time too, which it sounds like he has, considering he showed up for you when you needed someone, invited you to live with him, and wants you to meet his family, then it doesn’t seem fair to make that decision for him. Whatever’s going on, it should be something you both have a choice in.”
Sammy felt tears spring to his eyes again. Fucking hell, when did he become such a crier? “But… What if he does decide it’s too much? What if he decides he doesn’t want me? That I’m not worth it?”
What if he finds his mate and leaves, and I’m left with a gaping hole where my heart used to be?
Lana’s voice softened. “Oh, Sam. You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
He wiped at his face. “I should go. We’re almost back to his place.”
“Hey, you’re so worth it. You love deeper than anyone I know, and the very small number of people you give it to are lucky to have you. Plus, you’re fucking hilarious, and you look great with a beard. If he doesn’t want you, that’s his loss. If he makes you feel like a burden then fuck him. Actually no, fuck his uncle, like really. In retaliation.”
Yikes .
Sam let out a wet laugh. “Thank you. Really.”
“Whatever you decide, let me know you’re good, ok? And don’t think I’ve forgotten about everything else you said. You still owe me an explanation on your apartment and these mysterious circumstances and how big his wood is.”
Sam smiled. “I will. You take care, too.”
He hung up the phone just as they turned down Silas’ street. When the little craftsman house came into view, Sam was struck with the feeling of home ; more so than he’d ever felt in his apartment.
Maybe that had more to do with the man who lived there.
Sam had thought a lot about Silas over the last few days—and not just those scorching looks they exchanged every time he stepped out of the shower.
How do those sleeveless hoodies feel now, hmm?
He thought about the way Silas put the last handful of shredded cheese in Sam’s quesadilla, even though it was obvious he wanted more for himself, too.
He thought about the way Silas kept adding blankets he’d find to Sam’s bed so he’d stay warm throughout the night, and about the way it wasn’t really Sam’s bed at all—but Silas had given it up anyway because he wanted Sam to be comfortable.
Sam thought about the quiet joy he’d seen on Silas’ face every time Sam had done something nice for him, and the fear in Silas’ eyes when it was time for Sam to pick up his car—like the world would have fallen apart if he’d decided to leave.
Most of all, though, Sam thought about the words Silas had growled in his ear the first day they’d brought Riley to stay, and how much fire had been in his gaze with their bodies all pressed up against each other.
I brought you into my home, into my bed, because it was the only option I could even remotely tolerate. Because it was fucking inevitable. Because having you—just as you are, with all those sharp claws and biting words and secrets—right here with me has always been inevitable.
He’d fought himself so hard to stay away all these months, and for what? To be sad and alone?
The audio he’d posted a few days ago was doing well; he’d probably be able to pay Cain in full within the month. Then all of that could disappear. Sam would bury it, alongside what he’d done to wind up in Cain’s clutches in the first place, and he could move on.
He could choose to be happy. He could choose to be with Silas—if Silas wanted him back.
Maybe he wasn’t looking for a mate. Surely, it was rare to find one? Silas may never meet his at all. Maybe he’d be happy with what they could build together, even without that connection.
They’d never know unless they tried.
As he pulled into the driveway behind Silas’ truck, Sam surfaced from his swirling thoughts at the sight of Finn, Jaime, Sheppard, DA Rivera, Riley, and someone he didn’t know all standing in the front yard.
Oh goody, sleeping beauty woke up.
So maybe Sam hadn’t quite gotten over that yet. Whatever. He’d never claimed to be the bigger person.
The second he opened his car door their loud chatter surged in, and Sam realized something was wrong. Sheppard was standing between Finn and Jaime and Riley and the stranger, with both arms outstretched, like he’d just pulled apart two brawling drunks at a bar.
Sam saw the stranger, who had to be Buck, pulling Riley away from Finn and Jaime. Had Finn attacked him?
Except it wasn’t Finn that Sheppard had a hand up to stop—it was Jaime. Finn also had a firm hold on Jaime’s shoulder and was pulling him away the same way Buck was with Riley.
And Jaime was… yelling? “You stay the fuck away from my brother! Get him out of here!”
“What the hell is going on?” Silas asked, striding over to the tense group and positioning himself in front of Sam in that same irritating way he had when they’d confronted Cain last spring. He was even larger in his partial shift.
Sam elbowed his way around him, just as he had then. “I can’t see anything when you do that, you Oaf.”
“So, uh, Riley’s awake,” Finn said, gesturing vaguely at where he was standing a little ways away. “And Buck is here.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up as he took in the deer shifter for the first time.
How the hell are all of these people so damn attractive?
Buck was ripped.
Like, the guy had muscles on top of muscles. He wasn’t much taller than the average man, but he had shoulders for days, and tattoos covered his arms and neck. His dark hair was cropped close, and his gaze darted between all of them like someone who’d gone up against worst odds before, and still come out on top.
Jaime’s face was red in anger, and he pointed his finger at Riley when he said, “That cell phone was his. He was there—he was in that fucking car!”