Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Sam
The distance was intentional.
At first, it wasn’t even a choice. It was a reaction. A survival instinct. Like my body knew before my mind that I couldn’t be near Liam without wanting something more or hoping for something he had already made clear he wasn’t ready to give.
I stopped showing up at Stag & Lantern as often.
I wasn’t avoiding him entirely. That would have been impossible in Havenwood.
But I stopped making it easy. If I knew our group was getting together, I still went, but I didn’t sit next to him or hover at the bar, waiting for him to pour my drink with that smirk that had always felt like it was just for me.
I didn’t stay behind after everyone else had left, letting the air between us thicken.
I talked to other people.
I made a point to laugh with Callie, to flirt with strangers, to catch up with Max and Ezra and Renzo without always waiting for him to join the conversation.
I filled my days with things that made me feel whole again like work, the gym, and my own projects at home.
And slowly, I started to breathe more freely.
Noah and Evan had finally figured their shit out.
I wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but they’d come out of whatever weird limbo they’d been stuck in. They’d finally broken through the bullshit and decided to be together instead of dancing around it.
It was nice to see.
Messy as it had been, I was happy for them.
Jordan, on the other hand…
Poor guy.
Evan and Noah being back together meant he was back to square one. I could see it when we were out. How he’d scan the room, trying to figure out where he fit in now that Evan wasn’t an option and Liam had stopped hooking up with him.
I felt for him.
But I wasn’t going to be the one to offer him a lifeline.
That one night? That had been one night. Fun, hot, reckless. But it wasn’t something I wanted to revisit.
Liam had texted a few times, just casual check-ins, like he was trying to pretend things were normal.
I didn’t ignore him. That would have been petty.
But I didn’t encourage the conversation either.
Liam: How’s the semester going?
Me: Good.
Liam: Made any students cry yet?
Me: Not yet.
Liam: You’d tell me if you were dying without my company, right?
Me: Pretty sure I’ll survive.
He was fishing. I knew he was. Testing the waters, trying to see if I’d give him an opening to slip back into my life the way he always had before.
But I wasn’t that guy anymore.
Not with him.
I wasn’t being a dick. I wasn’t being passive-aggressive. I wasn’t punishing him for his choices.
I was just honoring my boundaries.
I was taking care of myself.
And the truth was I missed him.
I missed his stupid jokes and the way he stole my fries even when he had his own. I missed how he knew how to push just hard enough, how he could take me apart with a look, a smile, a touch.
But I also knew my answer now.
I knew that as much as I wanted him, he wasn’t ready to want me back in the same way.
And I was finally in a place where I could accept that.
I wasn’t waiting for him anymore.
I was moving on.
Liam
The Rainbow Taproom was alive. It was a typical Friday night, our group spread out in a circle around the table, laughter spilling over as drinks disappeared at a steady pace.
And Sam?
Sam was doing exactly what he said he would do.
I knew it. I fucking knew it.
I watched as he leaned in to say something to Jules.
His arm was slung lazily over the back of his chair.
He wasn’t avoiding me, not outright. But he wasn’t giving me an inch either.
If we were in a group, he made sure to talk to someone else.
If our eyes met, he held my stare for just long enough to make it clear he wasn’t looking away. He was choosing not to get pulled in.
It was frustrating as hell.
I took a sip of my drink, tracking the way his lips curled into a smile at something Jules said. I didn’t like it. Didn’t like how effortless this all seemed for him.
Wasn’t it supposed to be hard?
Wasn’t he supposed to miss me?
Sam set his drink down, stretching. “I’m gonna take a leak.”
No one questioned it or one even looked up.
But the second he was gone, my mouth worked faster than my brain.
“Guess Ortiz is still on his ‘Fuck Liam’ campaign.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
Because the shift in energy was instant.
Callie, Ezra, and Max didn’t even hesitate. They just stood and pushed their chairs back with just enough force to make a point.
Ezra let out a tired breath. “You are so exhausting, dude.”
Max mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch before all three of them peeled off toward the bar, making a beeline for Tess, Avery, and Harper.
Which left me alone at the table with Jules, Renzo, and Elliott.
And fuck.
It was silent.
Renzo looked like he was seconds from exploding, his fingers twitching against his glass like he was using every ounce of restraint he had not to lunge across the table and throttle me.
I slumped back in my chair, setting my drink down with a huff. “What?”
Renzo let out a slow, measured breath. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Ren, dramatic much?”
Renzo pushed forward, his chair scraping against the floor. “You don’t get to do that, Liam. You don’t get to be a dick because Sam is doing exactly what he should be doing after you made your choice.”
I scoffed, taking another sip. “Yeah? And what choice was that?”
Elliott finally cut in, his voice too calm. Too dad-like.
“You decided you didn’t want more than friendship.”
The words landed like a fucking hammer to my chest.
“I never said that.”
“No, but you made it clear enough,” Elliott continued, tone even. “And I get it, Liam. You don’t do relationships. You’ve never done relationships. But that doesn’t give you the right to punish Sam for not waiting around for you to figure your shit out.”
I scoffed. “I’m not punishing—”
Elliott held up a hand, pushing his chair back as he stood. “With all due respect? Shut the fuck up, Liam.”
The words hit.
Hard.
I stared at him, jaw tight.
Elliott never snapped. He was the calm one, the rational one, but there was no mistaking the edge in his voice. The disappointment in his eyes.
Jules stood too, setting his drink down with a clink. “You do realize Sam’s handling this the right way, yeah?” His voice was quieter, but just as cutting. “He gave you space. You didn’t take it. So now he’s protecting his heart. Don’t act surprised.”
They didn’t wait for a response.
They walked away from the table, shoulders squared, silent in that way that made the silence louder. Left behind were two untouched drinks, a chill in the air, and me.
I stayed quiet.
Renzo, on the other hand, was not done.
“You told him you didn’t know what you wanted,” he snapped. “You told him you weren’t looking for a relationship. So what the fuck is this? What, you just expected him to sit around and wait for you to figure your shit out?”
I clenched my jaw. “That’s not—”
“No, you know what?” Renzo cut me off. “I’m done. I love you, Liam. You’re one of my best fucking friends. But you don’t get to be mad that Sam is taking care of himself. That’s not on him, that’s on you.”
I didn’t say anything.
Didn’t move.
Because I hated that they were right.
I hated that I felt the truth in every single word.
And Renzo didn’t say anything for a long stretch of seconds.
The kind of quiet that made your skin itch.
Finally, he sighed. Not sharp or angry. Just tired.
“Figuring yourself out is hard shit,” he said, voice low, not looking at me. “Trying something new, letting yourself feel different—it’s a fucking minefield. Especially when you’re doing it alone. Trust me, I know.” He took a deep breath and let it out before saying, “I know too well.”
My chest tightened.
Renzo glanced at me then, eyes steady but not unkind. “It makes it real easy to push away the people you actually need. To convince yourself you don’t need them at all.”
He gave a small shrug, almost like he regretted saying that much. “I love you, man. You know that. I want to see you happy. But not if it means hurting someone else I love to get there.”
Another pause.
Then he stood up too.
“Figure it out.”
We locked eyes across the table. With nothing but the truth, and the weight of everything I hadn’t said.
I was about to say something, anything, when—
“Hey boys!”
Jordan.
Fucking Jordan.
His voice was cheerful. His smile beamed as he strolled past our table like he didn’t just walk straight into a war zone.
I didn’t think.
I didn’t hesitate.
I just snapped.
“Fuck you, Jordan.”
Jordan’s smile faltered, eyebrows lifting in surprise before sliding into something bemused.
“Whoa.” He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Rough night, Carter?”
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t look at him again.
I just pushed back from the table, standing too fast, my chair scraping against the floor.
I needed to get the fuck out of here.
I was barely five steps from the door when Maxie materialized in my path like an omen.
She tilted her head, the dim bar lights catching the shimmer of her perfectly applied highlighter as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Baby,” she purred. “You are spiraling.”
I clenched my jaw. “Not now, Maxie.”
Her lips twitched. “Oh, sweetie. If not now, then when?”
I let out a groan, stepping past her.
She let me go.
But her voice trailed behind me, sing-song and infuriatingly smug.
“Baby… you know my rule. No mess in my bar. Fix your shit, Carter.”
Sam
The classroom was quiet. The kind of quiet that only existed after the final bell rang and the last student trickled out, leaving nothing but empty desks and the faint hum of fluorescent lights.
I sat at my desk, red pen in hand, grading essays that blurred together after a while. Some were insightful, others half-assed, but all of them needed feedback.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
The school year was already in full swing, and I was keeping myself busy. It helped. Focused energy meant less time to dwell on things I couldn’t change.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
I glanced up just as Elliott strolled in, a small brown bag in hand, a grin already tugging at his lips.
“Brought you a little something,” he said, dropping the bag onto my desk before plopping down in a student chair. “Figured you could use a pick-me-up.”
I quirked an eyebrow, setting my pen down and peering inside the bag. The smell hit me first. Chocolate chip cookies. Warm, fresh, gooey.
I laughed, pulling one free. “What’s the occasion?”
Elliott shrugged, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms. “Call it a thank-you. Since someone once did the same for me when I was stress-eating my way through Jules-related woes.”
I shook my head, but I smiled, taking a bite. The cookie was soft, the chocolate still slightly melted. Perfect.
“Thanks, man,” I muttered around a mouthful.
Elliott grinned. “Anytime.”
For a few minutes, we sat in cozy silence. I kept grading, and he swiped a cookie for himself, chewing thoughtfully.
Then—
“So,” he started, dragging out the word, monitoring me carefully. “How you holding up?”
I sighed, setting my pen down again. “I’m fine.”
Elliott just hummed. “You’re also grading papers at your desk after school instead of, I don’t know, going home and doing literally anything else.”
I shot him a look.
He just smiled.
I let out a slow breath, rolling my shoulders. “I don’t know, man. I’m getting through it.”
Elliott nodded. “And Liam?”
I hesitated.
Because that was the question, wasn’t it?
I didn’t have an answer. Not one that made sense.
I glanced at Elliott, narrowing my eyes slightly. “Speaking of… where did he go the other night?”
Elliott’s expression shifted slightly.
He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “Let’s just say… your friends didn’t let him get away with his usual bullshit.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That vague, huh?”
Elliott sighed. “Let’s also just say… Liam won’t be pushing your boundaries anymore.”
Something about the way he said it, so calm, so sure, so unquestionably final, made me chuckle.
“You sound like the fucking Godfather right now,” I said, trying not to laugh too hard.
Elliott laughed. “Well, Sammy, sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
I snorted as he deepened his voice into the worst Marlon Brando impression I’d ever heard. “Someday… and that day may never come… I will call upon you to do a service for me.”
I threw a wadded-up piece of paper at him. “Jesus, that’s terrible.”
He dodged it calmly, laughing. “I’m just saying. It was handled.”
I shook my head, but there was something lighter in my chest. Something that made me grateful for the friends I had.
And then my phone buzzed.
I glanced at the screen.
Liam.
My stomach clenched instinctively.
I didn’t open it, just stared at his name for a second too long before sighing and flipping the phone over.
Elliott was studying me.
I rubbed at my jaw, exhaling slowly. “I miss him,” I admitted. “But I know the distance is healthy.”
Elliott nodded, his focus steady. “You’re doing what you need to do.”
I let out another breath. “Doesn’t make it easy.”
“Nope.” Elliott stood, stretching. “But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
I just nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else.
Elliott clapped his hands together. “Alright. Enough of this.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Pack your shit.”
I frowned. “Why?”
He gestured at my desk like it personally offended him. “Because the day is done, and you do not need to sit here grading papers when you could be at home, drinking a beer, watching a shitty movie, or literally anything else.”
I hesitated.
Elliott crossed his arms. “Sam.”
I sighed.
Then, I closed the grade book. Stacked the papers into a neat pile. Left them there.
Elliott nodded approvingly.
I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.
Then, before we walked out, I pulled Elliott into a quick hug.
“Thanks,” I mumbled into his shoulder.
He squeezed my shoulder. “Anytime, man.”
We turned the lights off, stepped into the hallway, and shut the door behind us.