Chapter Twelve
Sailor
The air is tense when I get back to Sam’s Sunday night. He’s sitting at the small dining table, eating something from a bowl. I smile and wave, which he returns, but it feels off.
When Amelia came to visit, I wasn’t sure I’d stay with her, but then I got there and I didn’t want to leave. I hadn’t realized how hard it was to breathe while being in Sam’s place—and it feels even worse now.
I don’t get it. He used to be such a kind person.
He was sweet and understanding, and now…
he’s scaring me more than Jaxon ever did.
But that doesn’t mean I should run back to Jaxon.
Just because he may be the lesser of two evils, doesn’t make it right.
There are other options—like handling this myself.
I bring my things to my room, then come back out to smooth things over with Sam.
“Hey,” I say, running my hands over my jean-covered thighs. “How was your weekend?”
He shrugs, picking up the bowl to drink from it. Soup or cereal, I guess.
“Fine. Yours?” The chair scrapes along the floor as he gets up to drop his bowl into the sink.
“It was great. It was nice seeing Amelia.”
“Glad you had fun with your friend.” His tone is hollow as he moves past me like a zombie.
“Sam,” I try, turning to follow after him. “Can we talk?”
“About what?” he asks as he drops onto the couch.
I’m not stupid. I can tell he’s giving me the cold shoulder. His smooth and emotionless quick answers. The no eye contact.
“Us. What’s going on?” I sit beside him.
“Nothing is going on.”
The TV turns on, the sound of whatever show playing through the air. I keep my gaze on his profile.
“You’re upset about something. I don’t like this.”
He turns to me, giving me a smile that isn’t happy. It’s only now, with the light of the TV over him, that I notice the dark, heavy bags under his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.
“Yeah? Well, neither do I.”
“Do… do you want me to leave?”
He stares at me with a dead look in his eyes, almost like he’s seeing right through me.
“What I want is for things to go back the way they were,” he says firmly.
My stomach knots.
“Sam, I told you I only want to be friends.”
“And that’s what this is?” he barks. “This is us being friends?”
“Well, no…” He’s not wrong. I feel the tension between us, and it’s only growing. I thought coming here would be a good idea. I thought it would be like rooming with a friend. I didn’t expect him to be like this. I didn’t think things would get so bad. “I’m sorry. I just have a lot going on.”
“Do you, though? Because you’ve been here for weeks and still haven’t told me why you came at all.”
I frown. “You said it didn’t matter when I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, well,” he mutters. “I’m starting to wonder if anything happened at all.”
My jaw drops, and I stare at him, at a loss for words. I jump to my feet, anger coursing through me. “Why are you being so mean?” I turn to leave before I start to cry, because I’m so mad, but he grabs my wrist. I turn back, ready to lay into him, when I see pain in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He gets to his feet, still holding onto my wrist. “I’m sorry, Sailor. That was mean. This is just hard for me.”
“Well, so is what I’m going through,” I say through tears that I can’t stop. “And I’m sorry I don’t want to talk about it, but I don’t. And I thought you were being a good friend by letting me stay here while I work through it. I didn’t think you’d hold it over my head!”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Be a good friend. I’m sorry.”
I search his face, and nothing tells me he’s lying. He actually seems sorry. Maybe he’s going through some stuff, and he’s stressed out too.
“It’s okay,” I say softly, even though it’s not. But I don’t want to fight with him or make him any angrier or upset than he already is.
He opens his arms for a hug, and I hesitate before leaning into him.
He smells good, his body warm and firm. I remember what it felt like when I thought I loved him… and I remember what it felt like when I realized I loved Jaxon.
Sometimes, especially now, I wonder if I loved Sam at all.
Or if I just loved the idea of having someone.
I was used to being alone. Everyone in my life that I loved died.
And my mother left me long before she died because she was so hurt by my father dying.
I’ve never had someone be there for me always… not until Sam.
But the way I felt about him is nothing compared to what I feel for Jaxon.
Felt for Jaxon.
Still feel?
With Jaxon, it’s an inferno. A blaze that’s building and building with no end in sight. An uncontrollable fire with a mind of its own.
As I’m standing here now, hugging Sam, I feel nothing. At least, not in a sexual way. I care about him. I’ve known him forever. But… this is like… a brother.
That’s what it is. The love I feel for Sam is just that.
For some reason, that makes me feel better about this entire thing, and I hug him a little tighter. His hands press against my back, his head resting on top of mine.
I pull back and look up at him with a smile. “Thank y—”
My word is cut off by Sam’s lips against mine, and it takes far too long for me to realize what’s happening. I jerk back, out of his hold, and stare at him in confusion.
“Sam, what the hell?” I bark.
“I thought—”
“How many times do I have to say that I don’t see us like that?” I scoff, and hurry past him to get my laptop from the desk, then storm into the bedroom and lock the door. I expect him to come after me and apologize, but he doesn’t.
In fact, moments later, I hear the front door open and close.
Only then can I breathe, but I’m still so angry. I give him an inch, and he takes a mile.
Will he ever get it?