39. Not Normal
~ brIDGET ~
Sam’s house—the one he lived in when he wasn’t covering for Richard—was an hour out of the city and close to the prison, which made my skin crawl. But I tried to ignore it.
Driving to his house my heart wasn’t pounding, but it fluttered. A lot. It beat too fast, but light and quick, like a bird. Which was dumb. He had said we’d just have lunch and hang out. It was nothing.
I would have used that as a euphemism.
Except… with him, it wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t.
So, when I’d pulled into the driveway of the simple, old but clean little house with a lawn that needed to be mowed, and patchy weeds in the flowerbeds, I almost backed out and left again.
I was still sitting there, engine on, when the front door opened and Sam leaned out and my heart beat faster, and a little harder and I knew I wasn’t going to leave.
He stood in the doorway, watching me. He was wearing a slim-fitting t-shirt and a pair of distressed jeans. His hair was scattered across his forehead, dark and shiny like he’d just gotten out of the shower. His arms were bare so I could enjoy his tattoos. And when he stepped out of the house to walk down the little cracked cement path, my mouth went dry because that shirt hugged him in all the right places and revealed that the not-Priest was definitely still working out.
I still hadn’t turned the engine off on the car when he got to the door, so I rolled down the window and looked up at him, trying to smile, but knowing I wasn’t really pulling it off.
He leaned over me, gripping the door of the car where the window should have been closed. It made the tendons stand up on his hand, and his muscles flex. I had to swallow.
“You okay, Bridget?” he asked quietly, his voice warm… and a little bit worried.
I shook my head. But I couldn’t stop staring at him.
“Do you need some time? Or do you want to come inside?”
I looked past him at the house and wondered where this was going to lead.
Not priest.
Lots of muscles.
A shirt that I could get my claws into and—
I swallowed hard. “I’ll come in.”
Sam smiled and reached down to open the door for me, opening it and waiting until I got out, before closing it too.
He gestured for me to walk ahead of him to the house, so I did, the skin on the back of my neck prickling because he was a lot taller than me and staring down and me, and I liked that feeling.
Then we got inside and the door opened straight into the living room and it was… normal. A little bit dusty. Very plain. But… normal.
Thick couch against the wall under the window.
Television on the wall with cords falling down, and an Xbox.
Old bookshelves filled with books.
An open archway that gave a glimpse of a small kitchen.
Sunlight coming through the windows.
Normal.
“Do you want a coffee or… something else?” He asked as he closed the door behind me, then walked towards the kitchen, flapping a hand for me to follow him. But I didn’t at first. I just stood there awkwardly in the middle of the floor, uncertain if I was going to flee.
“I’m fine,” I said, then bit my lip when he walked past me and I got to see how those jeans hugged his ass.
You did good on this one, God.
“Well, I’m just going to get a cup… come through here. I’ve got lunch on the dining table. We can eat when you’re hungry.”
I followed him through the little galley kitchen, then I kept walking to the dining room on the other side—small. The table would only seat four. But there was a lovely big window and the sun beamed through it, revealing an ill-kempt, but cute garden and back lawn behind the house.
“This is a cute place,” I said carefully, uncertain how a man would feel about it being described that way.
Sam shrugged as he pulled the coffee pot out of the machine and poured himself a mug.
“I like it. It’s… calm,” he said, then looked up at me with a smile that was small and a little nervous.
Which just made me more nervous.
Shit.
“What did you end up doing yesterday?” he asked as he picked up the coffee and started towards me.
“I had to go see my therapist.”
His brows pushed up. “So that was real? I thought—”
“Yeah, I told him about you,” I said. “I wasn’t joking.”
“Only good things, I hope,” he said.
I laughed more than it needed, then shrugged. “Yeah. Like I said, he thinks you’ve… got a good head on your shoulders. I think that’s how he phrased it.”
Sam shrugged humbly, but then took a sip from his coffee and we were just standing there and it was awkward as hell and I didn’t know what to do. So I turned away from him to look out the window again. And then I lost my nerve.
“You know, I’m actually pretty tired and I’m sure you’re busy. I wonder if we should do this another time and—”
“Bridget, don’t,” he said, his voice low and dark in a way that made my ribs go tight. I turned to look at him and heard the clunk of the coffee mug being plonked on the table, then he stepped right up to me, his expression serious.
“Don’t what?” I asked lamely.
“Don’t run.”
“I’m not. I’m just—”
“I’m not unsure how to do this, I’m just being careful with you because you’ve got a lot going on and I don’t want to make that worse.”
I frowned. “How would you make it worse?”
“By moving too fast, or in the wrong direction. It doesn’t matter, look, I’m just saying, every conversation we’ve had has been in the middle of some crisis. I want to talk to you. Get to know you. Just… be normal,” he said with a wry twist of his lips that was fucking adorable.
But I winced. “I don’t really do normal, Sam.”
“I know. I don’t usually either. Let’s have an adventure together,” he said quietly, smiling, but his eyes were intense and locked on mine.
My heart rate slipped up another notch and I swallowed. “I like adventures,” I offered carefully.
He nodded. “I gathered. Have you heard from… your friend?”
My breath whooshed out of me and I slumped. “No,” I muttered, cursing myself for the fierce reaction I had at any thought of Cain.
“Good.”
“It’s not good!” I said sharply, then closed my eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Yes, you did,” he said dryly. “But that’s okay. I’d rather you were honest than trying to pretend.”
“I’m not much of an actor, unless it’s role play,” I said—unable to resist.
Sam’s brows rose a hair and he went still. His Adam’s apple jumped. “Is that what your arrangement is with Cain? Some kind of… role play?”
I shook my head. “I don’t really want to talk about him—”
“Neither do I, but he’s the fucking elephant in the room,” Sam muttered, clawing a hand through his hair, then folding his arms and looking at me like he was getting angry.
There was a little burst of something behind my ribs, and I folded my arms too. “Don’t you start judging me—”
“I’m not!”
“—you knew when you asked me—”
“Yes, Bridget. But here’s a shocking fact. When you care about what happens to someone, it’s kind of impossible not to worry when you’re told there’s some monster out there getting ready to kill them!”
I blinked as it hit me that I hadn’t told him about seeing Cain that night…
“I… he’s… I don’t think that’s going to happen anymore,” I admitted miserably.
Sam frowned, but his eyes flashed. “Why not?”
“Because… because I saw him that night after I talked to you, and he got mad because I told him I wanted to change the rules. So he left. And he hasn’t shown up since. Not even a message.”
I wish saying those words didn’t make my blood run cold.
Sam clawed both hands through his hair, then shook his head. “And you’re disappointed?”
“Yeah! I told you, I like an adventure—”
“Bridget, that’s not—” He cut himself off and turned away, but then whipped back around almost immediately. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do here, please? Because you keep talking about this guy and what he’s supposed to do like it’s a good thing. Is this a cry for help? Did you come here because you need help? Because I’ll help you. Do you want me to call the Police? Or—”
“Don’t you dare. That is not why I came here! You said you’d keep my secrets!”
“And I will! But it feels like I’m shadow boxing with a ghost—a ghost that you have the hots for.”
I actually felt my cheeks heat and ran my hand through my hair again to try and cover. “He’s not a ghost, he’s…”
“What? What is he, Bridget?”
He’d taken a step closer, but his expression was tense, bordering on anger and he loomed over me.
My heart beat faster. I looked up at him and licked my lips, swallowing to wet the roof of my mouth again so I could speak.
“He’s… like me.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I thought you understood…”
“That’s the problem, Bridget. I think I understand better than you do,” he growled like he was frustrated and leaned down into my space. “You say you want an adventure, but I don’t think that’s it. I think you want someone who’s going to hurt you.”
“Yeah, I told you—”
“Stop playing dumb!” he snapped.
I blinked and after a tense moment where shadows flickered in his eyes, he muttered a curse and stepped closer, pushing into my space so I was forced to walk backwards or let him overwhelm me.
“I’m not playing anything—” I started, lifting my hand, intending to plant it on his chest and stop him, but quick as a flash, he caught my wrist.
Shocked, and turned on, I stared up at him, my heart racing faster when I saw how dark his eyes were.
“You don’t just want a hunter, you want an abuser, is that it? Someone to treat you like shit?” he growled, gripping my wrist so I couldn’t get away.
I struggled to free myself, but my heart was hammering and I was backing away, thrilled when he followed.
I came up hard against the wall, but he just stepped right up, pinning me against it, staring down at me, glaring.
“Is that it, Bridget?” he breathed, his nose almost touching mine now, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt and something else I couldn’t pin down. “You want some guy who’s going to mistreat you—does that give you a thrill?”
I could hardly breathe. It was fucking fantastic.
“I don’t want… that,” I said, swallowing hard. “I just want a guy who treats me like I’m not breakable.”
He flattened my wrist against the wall, pinning it there with his clamped fist and leaning slowly against me until I felt him hard against my thigh.
My mouth opened a little because I was shocked—he’d been so careful with me. So… gentle before. This man in front of me didn’t seem like a not-priest. He seemed like a felon.
A dangerous felon.
I liked it.
I smiled at him and tipped my head. “Maybe what you’re mad about isn’t that I like it rough, Sam. Maybe you’re mad because you like it that way too?” I breathed, reaching down with my free hand to tickle my fingertips up the inside of his thigh, intending to stroke him.
That light in his eyes became a gleam and his gaze dropped to my smiling lips. I was just about to close my eyes, certain he was going to kiss me, when he suddenly tensed, then muttered something under his breath and let me go, backing quickly away, shaking his head.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. That was completely inappropriate—”
“No, Sam—”
“—I should never have… God, help me.” He clawed both hands through his hair.
“Stop!” I snapped, stepping up closer—but then he almost tripped, backing away so fast, and suddenly I was following him in a parody of what we’d just done, only in reverse. “Stop looking at me like that!”
“You don’t want me to look like I’m sorry?” he spluttered.
“No! Like… like I can’t take it!”
Sam stopped backing away and I didn’t anticipate it, so ran into him, fell into his chest. He wasn’t breathing as he searched my eyes, his forehead furrowed.
“That’s not what I think at all,” he said quietly, deeply.
My heart slammed against my ribs. “Then what—”
“I think you shouldn’t have to, which is totally different. Bridget… abuse and adventure are really different things. But it seems like… it seems like you want both.”
I blinked, then relaxed. I took a step back smiling.
Sam watched me intently, his forehead still creased with worry, but his eyes never leaving my face.
“You know what, Sam? You’re absolutely right. Gerald was right. You are wise.”
Then I took the bull by the horns, leaned up on my toes and brushed a soft kiss to his stunned and slightly open lips. I pulled away quickly, started to turn. But he caught me, his eyes still searching mine, then pulled me back in, took my face in his hands and lifted my chin, turning that sweet, soft kiss into something much, much deeper.
When we broke apart a minute later I was gasping and his chest was rising and falling quickly under my hand.
We stared at each other for a long moment, then it hit me what I was doing, and I panicked. I blinked, then turned on my heel and ran out of his house.