Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Naomi
W e stop in front of Dom’s house just long enough for me to decide there isn’t anything in there worth going up the stairs for, and then Sam drives us back to his place.
I brace myself for the feeling of homecoming, but I’m still not prepared for how hard it hits me. I don’t fall out of the golf cart, but only because I’m holding on.
“Why don’t you snuggle up on the couch? I’m just going to check in with The Sands and I’ll join you.”
“For a nap?” I tease, but Sam nods.
I laugh in spite of myself. “I expected you to say no.”
He pretends to look offended as he snatches his phone from the counter. “Come on. Sleeping in, pancakes, nap. I may be a workaholic, but I know how to have a day off.”
“Is this how you spend all your days off?” It’s supposed to be another bit of light teasing, but I can hear the edge in my voice.
Sam crosses the living room to where I’m standing, holding his ringing cell in one hand. He presses a light kiss to my forehead. “I never had a day off before I met you.”
A voice sounds through his small phone speaker as someone answers at the resort. He winks at me and then strolls away, bringing the phone to his ear and greeting the person on the other end.
I flop straight back onto the couch, lips vibrating with a forced exhale.
What the fuck!
This is all so perfect and sweet and incredible.
But is there really a future here?
I don’t even know how to ask. All I know is that I’m completely lost in it. When Sam bails, which is the most likely outcome, I’m going to be wrecked.
Unless I bail first.
I bite my lip and consider my options.
I’ve been ignoring messages from my PR company for the last two days. They think it’s time for me to try posting again. To offer up some new little tidbit from my life to test the waters.
I’m petrified to do it. And I have no idea how to feel about that. Posting is what I’ve always done. It’s my happy place. I’ve said in a joking, not so joking, manner that if I don’t post it, it didn’t happen. And I really, truly believed that.
But my life is different now. In the short span of my time here on Faraday, I’m living a different truth. Because I haven’t posted a thing, and yet my life feels more real than it ever has before.
“Resort’s still standing. We’re free for the rest of the day.” He tosses his phone into a basket on the counter and flops down beside me. “Theoretically.”
I smile, understanding perfectly. He’s always on call.
“You okay?” he asks, forehead crinkling as he watches me .
Damn. I thought I was doing a good job of masking my worries, but I guess not. This hound dog can sniff out my mood, even when I try to distract him by pulling my top a bit lower.
“Yeah, I’m just really ready for this nap, I guess.”
And ready to have a few moments to myself to freak the hell out without someone watching.
Sam curls his warm body around mine where I sit, and I laugh in spite of my gloomy thoughts, wiggling and sliding down until I’m laying face to face with him on the narrow couch. We’re both on our sides, slotted together like little sardines.
“Do you have enough room?” he asks.
I’m on the inside, pressed against the soft back of the sofa. I wriggle myself into the back a few more inches, because I’m sure Sam’s back is hanging off the edge. “Yeah. Do you?”
He smiles. “You might have to hold onto me.”
I lock my arms behind his back, taking my job very seriously.
Sam closes his eyes and slips right into his nap. I watch him for a few minutes, matching my breathing to his. Is he really so carefree about this whole thing? The peaceful look on his face as he sleeps sure looks like it.
And here I am, totally and completely wrecked. I don’t know what to do. I can almost feel myself preparing to run, even though I don’t want to. I want this.
Tears bubble up in my eyes, and I hold them closed to hide it, just in case Sam opens his.
I wake with a start when Sam performs the masterful acrobatic move of rolling over in my arms, balanced on his six inches of couch.
I wait for him to settle his back into me like the little spoon, and then I curl around him, holding him tighter than ever. I drift back off to nap-land convinced I can hold him forever.