Chapter Fifteen #2
Sam stood silently, unsure of what to say. She felt her face heat.
Emily’s eyes held Sam’s for a long minute until, finally, she pointed at her. “Just be careful, Sam.” With that, she grabbed her drink and turned on her heel, leaving a gaping Sam at the bar.
After Emily’s warning, Sam’s plans for the evening began to falter.
She had come to Easton’s with a relatively simple agenda—have a few drinks, hang out with old friends, and see if the subtext between her and Alex was going to become more overt.
But Emily had managed to rattle her confidence, leaving her suddenly feeling raw and exposed.
So, Sam retreated. She made her way over to the dartboards and hung out with the guys, tossing darts and sipping beers.
She won a round with a double bull’s-eye, then promptly lost the next three because she couldn’t stop her eyes from drifting to the bar, where Alex perched on a stool, laughing with Emily as she fished cherries out of her drink.
Sam tried to tell herself that it was fine.
That keeping her distance was what she had resolved to do all along, that whatever weird current was crackling between them should stay buried under a layer of plausible deniability.
But the longer she watched Alex, the more she realized how futile those efforts were becoming.
If Alex noticed what Sam was doing, she didn’t say.
Instead, Sam watched her drift from group to group.
Every time she crossed the floor, she would brush by Sam—sometimes with a casual touch to the shoulder, sometimes with a simple “hey” and a secret smile.
Each small interaction left Sam hypersensitive, skin prickling with anticipation for the next one.
The brief moments when their eyes met from across the bar were even worse.
Alex always met her gaze, direct and unblinking, the kind of stare that felt a little like a dare.
Sam tried to keep her wits about her. She threw darts, she sipped her beer, she nodded along to stories she didn’t hear because the only thing she was listening for was the bright sound of Alex’s laugh.
She told herself that she was the one keeping her distance, but slowly, bit by bit, she felt herself losing control.
After an hour of this near-silent orbit around each other, Alex stumbled slightly into Sam’s shoulder, spilling her drink onto the wrist that Sam reflexively reached out to steady her.
“Sorry,” she whispered. But instead of pulling away, she steadied herself with a hand on Sam’s hip.
Their faces hovered inches apart, so close Sam could feel the brush of Alex’s breath on her cheek.
For several seconds, Alex’s focus dropped to Sam’s mouth.
Then she jerked back as if burned, cheeks flaming crimson.
Without another word, she extricated herself and retreated to the far end of the bar, frantically tapping something out on her phone.
Sam watched as Alex drained her drink in a few gulps, then slid off the stool and weaved her way to the back exit.
Finally, her brain seemed to process what had happened, pushing her into action. She jumped to her feet, the chair clattering behind her. “Alex, wait!” she called. “Wait!”
But Alex either didn’t hear her or was pretending not to.
She had already made her way to the back door and slipped through it without a backward glance.
Sam elbowed her way across the crowded room, barely registering the press of bodies and sidelong looks.
Cursing under her breath, she shouldered open the back door and stumbled out into the night.
She blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, and finally caught sight of the lone figure standing at the edge of the parking lot.
She hesitated for just a moment, remembering Emily’s words.
Then she remembered all the time that had passed between them and how she had been so afraid to go after the thing she wanted. She didn’t want to do that anymore.
“Alex.” She recognized the desperation in her voice and hoped that she sounded calmer than she felt. “Can we talk? Please?”
Alex stopped, her shoulders going rigid. She slowly turned but held her hand out and shook her head to keep Sam from coming any closer. Her expression was filled with sadness, and her shoulders slumped, showing either fatigue or defeat. Sam couldn’t tell which.
Sam took the hint and paused a few feet away from her. She held up her hands, mimicking Alex’s stance back at her, trying to show that she wasn’t a threat. They faced each other in silence for several moments. Alex’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and Sam’s heart ached just watching her.
“Sam,” Alex sounded tired. “I’m going home.” She turned back toward the street. “Please,” she whispered. “Just leave me alone.”
Sam took another step closer and reached out to place a hand on Alex’s shoulder.
She felt her trembling. Thinking Alex might have started crying, she moved even closer.
Her hand slid down to take Alex’s. Her body vibrated just being this close to her, but she knew this wasn’t the time to think about the energy thrumming between them.
She needed to make sure that Alex was okay. “Alex, I…”
Her words were cut off when Alex dropped her hand and spun quickly to face her. Before she realized what was happening, Alex had wrapped her hands around Sam’s face and pressed her lips against hers.
It was by no means a pretty kiss—their lips smashed together, and their teeth lightly clashed—it was rough and uncoordinated, and it might have lasted all of about ten seconds.
But still, it was Alex. Flooded by memories, Sam was aware of being enveloped by Alex’s spicy citrus scent and the softness of the lips against hers.
She took a small step back, not to break the kiss but because the suddenness of it had knocked her back, and she needed to regain her footing.
Alex seemed to interpret her movement as a rejection because suddenly she sprang away, and her hands dropped from holding Sam’s face into fists at her sides.
She looked at Sam, and mortification spread over her features.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God, oh my God. What did I do?” Her hands came up to cover her face, and she turned away from Sam, taking a few steps back.
“Alex, wait.” Sam moved up behind her and reached out again, but she dropped her hand before touching her again. “Alex, it’s okay.”
Alex turned around, and even in the low light of the parking lot, Sam could see a blush spread on her cheeks. “No, it’s not. I just…” She shrugged her shoulders. Her mouth opened and closed and then opened again. “I didn’t mean to…”
Sam held up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay, Alex.” She took a step closer. “I was just surprised. And it seems like you’ve had just a little bit to drink. And honestly, so have I.
“Look,” she started again. “I need to know that if this happens…” She gestured between them. “I need to know that it’s something we both want. For real. With nothing in between us.”
Sam wanted to say more, but she was stopped by the crunch of tires as a car pulled up beside them. The window rolled down. “Alex Weaver?” the driver asked.
Alex glanced over her shoulder, acknowledging the Lyft driver with a quick wave before turning back and focusing on Sam. She chewed absently at her lower lip while Sam tracked the movement, remembering their feeling from a moment ago.
Finally, Alex nodded just once. Then, without another word, she stepped into the waiting car and disappeared into the night. Sam stood watching the taillights fade away, wondering what in the hell just happened.