Chapter 17 #2
Sam’s laugh is laced with unexpected sarcasm.
‘No? I could have sworn otherwise. You’re constantly blowing hot and cold with me, Mia.
I thought we were finally getting somewhere yesterday but now it feels like we’re back to you either being spitting nails mad or trying to escape the conversation as quickly as possible.
Even last night, you wouldn’t talk to me. ’
‘Well, I can’t exactly escape right this moment,’ Mia says, with the startling realization that this was probably John’s exact intent. She sighs, trying to mask the frustration in her voice as she says, ‘What is it precisely that you’re dying to talk about, Sam?’
He lets out another laugh. ‘Anything? Everything? I want to hear anything you want to say. I want you to talk to me, Mia.’ He says this with enough irritation that Mia can’t help but take notice.
She’s never really seen Sam upset. Nothing ever seems to truly irritate him.
But now, she can’t help but wonder whether she might have the ability to irritate Sam Williams. Could she get under his skin?
Mia chews on her lip, mulling this over.
After another awkward silence, Sam tries again. ‘How about this? Why don’t you tell me why you ran out of the room while we were watching the film? One moment I thought we were having a really nice time, but the next you were acting as if you just found out I have some awful contagious disease.’
Mia picks at a piece of fluff on her knee. There’s definitely anger mounting in Sam’s tone, and it’s making her re-evaluate every assumption she’d ever made about his unflappable calm. ‘I told you last night—’
Suddenly, Sam stands up from his chair, his eyes burning as he looks at her.
‘Spare me the lies, Mia. You actually have a tell, did you know that? There’s a little wrinkle that shows up between your eyebrows when you’re lying.
’ He shoves his fingers through his hair in agitation.
‘Whatever you may think of me, I like to believe that I at least deserve to hear the truth. Or at the very least, a couple of sentences’ worth of explanation. ’
Oh, he’s definitely angry. Too angry for it only to be about her awkwardness after the film last night.
Mia really doesn’t want to start digging up their past, not now.
She’s spent so long avoiding Sam, avoiding the emotional fallout of the way things ended between them, and she’s not sure she’s ready to finally let it all surface.
But as Sam’s frustration radiates off him in this moment, Mia has the unsettling feeling that that’s where this conversation is heading, whether she likes it or not.
She pushes herself up to her feet, matching Sam’s unflinching gaze with her own, accepting that she’s going to have to be honest.
‘It felt … weird, OK?’ Her voice is hoarse as she fights to keep it steady, to force down the emotions rising within her.
‘You’re right, we were having a perfectly nice time together, all cosy and relaxed and laughing at one of my favourite films. It was all so …
so easy. Which just felt so wrong after the last six years of—’ She cuts herself off, suddenly embarrassed to finish the sentence.
‘Just say it, Mia!’ Sam’s voice is raised, irritation pulsing beneath his words. ‘It’s not like I don’t know! You cut me out of your entire life!’
‘After the last six years of hating you!’
The words rush out of her, baited by his own anger, and they both stand there in stunned silence as Mia’s confession settles between them.
Mia clenches her jaw together and forces down the tears that are threatening to surface.
‘Is that what you wanted me to say? Are you happy now?’ She’s yelling and Sam’s glaring at her.
She can’t escape it, can’t escape him and the feelings that inundate her whenever she allows herself to be honest with him.
‘It was a huge 180, and I didn’t know how to process it.
’ She hurls this at him, heart pounding in her ears.
‘You want to talk about a 180? You never even gave me a chance to explain myself!’ Sam throws his hands up in frustration, eyes blazing. ‘I thought—’ Sam starts to say something and then catches himself. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I never did, did I?’ Mia snaps, her own irritation rising to match his.
Sam’s eyes widen, and after a moment he shakes his head in disbelief.
He takes a step towards Mia and she stays put, the tangle of anger and shock overpowering any thought of retreating.
Sam takes another step, and now he’s standing right in front of her, pushing into her personal space. Her pulse turns thunderous.
‘Is that really what you think? Mia, you blocked me on everything. You avoided me, used Lucy as a buffer, even forbade Charlie from talking about you with me. You were everything to me, Mia, and then overnight you completely removed yourself from my life. You were just gone.’ His anger seems to be melting away as he speaks, leaving something behind that Mia can’t quite identify.
‘I’ve spent years wishing we could have one conversation, just one, so that I could explain myself, but I’d come to accept it was never going to happen.
’ His voice is choked with emotion now, and Mia studies his eyes intently as he goes on.
‘And then, these past few days you’re suddenly back in my life, and there have been moments where things have almost felt normal, where I’ve felt almost normal for the first time in years, but every time I think we might finally be at a place where I can explain, you pull away again.
It’s killing me, Mia. I haven’t wanted to force you to talk about it and I can tell you don’t want to, but I just need …
I just have to know—’ He stops, the words catching in his throat.
He moves slowly, giving Mia time to edge away if she wants.
But she can’t move, can’t escape the onslaught of emotion playing across Sam’s face.
He reaches out, curling his hand around hers.
When Mia doesn’t immediately swat him away, he moves, sliding his hand over her wrist and up her forearm, sending a shudder throughout her body.
Sam makes a tiny, hoarse sound as he caresses Mia’s skin, which immediately breaks out in goosebumps. Sam’s eyes are on the path his hand is taking, and they’re soft, like he’s remembering previous times when his fingers danced across the contours of her body, making her writhe beneath him.
Sam traces his way back down to her palm and then he lifts her hand, bringing her fingers all the way up to his mouth.
Mia’s chest tightens and she can’t breathe past the ache in her heart as Sam brushes his lips across her knuckles – warm breath skating over sensitive skin.
Mia studies him, curiosity filling her as his words replay in her head.
All these years, she’d convinced herself that Sam was just toying with her, but as he meets her eyes, there is unmistakable hurt and regret swimming in his brown gaze.
They’re both quiet while Sam inches forward, their bodies now separated only by the space that their intertwined fingers hold.
Mia doesn’t know what to say or even think.
All she can do is feel the sensory overload of Sam’s body so close to hers, the heat radiating from him, his cinnamon and spice scent surrounding her.
All of her anger and frustration dissipate as she holds his gaze, and her breath stutters as she waits for Sam to speak.
‘Do you think,’ Sam finally begins, ‘do you think you could ever not hate me, Mia? Does that seem possible?’
A moment ago, Mia would have sworn it wasn’t. She’s been carrying this hurt around for so long, it’s become a part of her. But standing here, feeling the weight of Sam’s regret, she can feel her defences crumbling.
He hasn’t moved back an inch. ‘I wouldn’t say this if that door wasn’t stuck shut, but for once you can’t run away from me.
’ Mia swallows hard, her body softening towards Sam in familiar ways that she never thought she’d experience again.
‘Spending time with you yesterday was the highlight of my year.’
It’s the perfect opportunity to take another shot at Sam, and even now there’s a little voice in Mia’s head, a mean, vindictive one, that is urging her on.
But a much bigger part of her is holding its breath.
Hoping for something different. Mia bites her lip for a long moment, and then gives a little shrug.
‘I enjoyed it too.’ Feeling like she can do better, she tries again.
‘It felt like the old days. How I’d feel when we were hanging out at uni and I thought you liked me. Before everything.’
‘I did like you,’ Sam admits quickly, his voice low.
There’s a heat beneath his words, something charged and urgent, and Mia feels her body respond instinctively, desire skittering down her spine.
But she can’t let herself get pulled in again like she did last night.
She shakes her head slightly to try to clear it as doubt fills her, warring with the desire pooling in her stomach.
When you like someone, you don’t treat them the way Sam treated her.
He’d said he loved her back then, and she’d always thought it was just part of the game he was playing.
But just now he told her she’d been everything to him, and the vulnerability in his eyes had been too sincere to be fake.
Maybe she truly doesn’t have that story entirely right.
Sam had said he wanted to explain, but even now Mia isn’t sure if she’s ready to hear it.
She just needs some more time. She turns her gaze to the window, watching the softly falling snow.
‘I’m sorry I ran out on you yesterday. And then refused to talk to you.
That was insensitive of me, and you deserved better.
’ She looks at him as she says this, hoping he can see the honesty in her face.
His eyebrows rise in surprise and he seems at a loss for words, and Mia waits, eyes bouncing between him and the window.
‘OK,’ he says finally. ‘Thank you.’ He looks as though he wants to say something else, but Mia’s not sure if she’s strong enough to hear it in this moment.
She drops his hand and steps back, breaking out of the bubble Sam has created around them.
With a measure of distance between them, she feels like she can breathe again.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a flurry of movement outside the window, and she turns to see John sauntering by with a mischievous smile.
He points towards the front of the house and mimes opening a door.
Mia shakes her head. Apparently, the interfering ghost of Christmas present has decided she and Sam have done enough emotional work for now.
‘Great.’ Mia nods sharply. ‘Glad to hear it. You know, I’m going to try that door again. I was just thinking that maybe if I jiggle it a little while I turn the knob, it will work.’
‘It doesn’t hurt to try.’ Sam follows her back to the kitchen.
Knowing John has already undone whatever method he used to lock them in, Mia pretends to fuss with the knob, taking care to block Sam’s view with her body. When she swings the door wide open, he smiles in relief. Perhaps all of this unplanned honesty was challenging for Sam as well.
‘It would seem we are free to go,’ Mia observes wryly. As they start back towards the big house, John is nowhere to be seen. Annoyed as she is with him, Mia grudgingly admits that she’s somewhat grateful for the intrusion.