Chapter 8
8
SAM
Some secrets are written in melodies
Some truths hide in harmony
Mine is a love coded in every breath
- The Wild Ones, "Coded"
T he drive back was too quiet.
Faye hadn't said more than two words since her talk with my dad, her fingers tapping restless patterns on her knee. I knew that look—had seen it countless times before shows or press conferences. It meant her mind was working overtime, trying to control something that scared her.
"They liked having you there," I said, testing the waters.
"Hmm."
"Frankie's already planning Sunday dinners when we're in town."
"That's nice."
I watched her reflection in the car window, the city lights painting shadows across her face. "She also suggested we should start a nudist colony."
“Uh-huh.”
“And offer skidoo rentals.”
“Sounds good.”
“With free puppies for the first five hundred members.”
"That's a good ide—wait, what?" She finally looked at me.
"There she is." I smiled. "Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"
"Nothing." Too quick. Too sharp.
Liar.
"Faye."
"Sam." She mimicked my tone, but I caught the slight tremor in her voice.
I slid into the seat next to her, gently brushing her cheek with my knuckles. “You can tell me. Let me take some of the weight off your shoulders.”
Her gaze raked across my face, her dark eyes flashing with some yet to be expressed emotion.
“I don’t want to talk.”
Disappointed, I made a move to lean back, only to have her stop me with her next, devastating words.
“I want you to kiss me.”
I froze, searching her face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. "Are you sure?"
I knew that once I crossed this line with her, there’d be no going back. No way I could pretend I didn’t want her, didn’t need her like this. I’d kept my distance for so long, telling myself it was for the best—that she deserved better, that what we had was good enough. But every time she was near, that thin resolve chipped away, bit by bit.
"I'm tired of being scared," she whispered, her fingers curling into my shirt. "Tired of pretending I don't want this. Want you."
I traced my thumb across her bottom lip, watching her eyes darken. "But if we do this, there's no going back. No pretending it didn't happen."
"I don't want to go back." Her voice was soft but certain. "I want to go forward. With you."
Something inside me broke free—all the longing, all the careful distance I'd maintained. God, she had no idea. She had no idea how long I’d been carrying this, how deep these feelings ran. It had started as a crush, simple and harmless, but as the years passed, it grew into something so fierce, so constant, that it became part of who I was.
I cradled her face in my hands, giving her one last chance to pull away.
Instead, she surged forward, pressing her lips to mine.
This kiss was different from our first. That had been heat and frustration, raw need bursting free This was deeper, slower, something profound and electric that spread through me like wildfire. I kissed her with every ounce of restraint I’d ever held, letting her feel the years of quiet longing, the nights I’d spent replaying the sound of her laughter, imagining what it would be like to touch her, to hold her like this.
Her hands slid into my hair as she shifted onto my lap, her body fitting against mine. She sighed against my mouth, a soft, contented sound that made my heart ache. I wanted to memorize everything about this moment—the way her lips moved with mine, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body against mine. I wanted to savour it, to take my time, because I’d waited so damn long for this, and I didn’t want to miss a single second.
I traced kisses down her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with something uniquely Faye. I could never go back to just being her friend. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t felt this, hadn’t tasted the way she said my name, sighing it like it meant something more. Like I meant something more.
"Sam," she sighed, the sound sending sparks down my spine.
I caught her lips again, pouring every unspoken word, every quiet moment I’d spent wanting her, into that kiss. I wanted her to know that this wasn’t new, wasn’t just some fleeting impulse. I wanted her to feel how deeply, how irrevocably, I was hers.
Her tongue teased mine as her fingers traced patterns on my skin, each touch electric. My hands roamed over her back, her sides, relearning every curve, every dip.
She made a soft sound of pleasure, and I felt a fierce satisfaction, a thrill that went all the way down to my bones. This was what I’d wanted. She was what I’d wanted—all of her, her laughter, her strength, her vulnerability. Everything that made her Faye.
"You're sure?" I asked one more time, needing her to be certain.
She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her lips swollen from our kisses. "I've never been surer of anything."
I traced the curve of her cheek, memorizing the way her skin felt beneath my fingertips, etching every detail into my mind, because I knew I’d hold on to this moment forever. "Good. Because I've wanted this—wanted you—for so long."
Forever.
"Show me."
I pulled her close again, kissing her deeply, thoroughly, the way I'd dreamed of for years. Her hands slipped under my shirt, trailing fire across my skin as I explored her soft curves memorising each new discovery.
If I only had this moment for the rest of my life, it would be enough.
"Sam," she breathed against my lips. "Take me to bed."
I groaned against her lips. “We live in a fucking bus.”
“Then get a hotel room.”
“Fuck.”
I hit the intercom, calling the driver.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Find a hotel. Four Seasons, or the Sapphire.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turn back to Faye. “We’ll never hear the end of this.”
She grinned, her beauty stealing my breath.
“Shut up and kiss me.”