3. Chapter 3
What the fuck am I doing?
My grip on the steering wheel of Lisa’s car is so tight, my knuckles aren’t white, they’re transparent. When I agreed to meet up with Sam, it didn’t even faze me. Sure, I can go meet some guy I barely know in his hotel room in a city that’s not my home. Why not?
I run my palm down my face, but tear it away as I remember I’m actually wearing makeup. Lisa insisted, so I allowed her to put the bare minimum on me. One neutral shade of eyeshadow, some light mascara, and a dab of lip gloss, but that’s it.
She wanted to pick my outfit too, but luckily, I didn’t bring an extensive wardrobe. I threw on a pair of comfy jogging shorts and an aqua-colored tank top. When I told her that color makes the blue of my eyes pop, it seemed to satisfy her.
As Jackie French-braided my hair, my three friends and I sat around three large pizzas as they all swooned over Sam. They giggled about his flirty text messages. They chided me for not letting him come to our room so they could meet him. They even went as far to say they couldn’t wait to hear about our date. Our date. I told them that’s not what this is.
Is it?
I date so little I have no idea. In my mind, a date is dinner and a movie, something that’s planned in advance. It’s certainly not a half-assed meetup at some guy’s hotel room. That’s more like a booty-call.
“Ugh! What the fuck am I doing?”
Slapping the steering wheel with my palm, I pull Lisa’s Honda Accord with the broken side mirror into the parking lot of the Travel Lodge. At least this beat-up car will match the beat-up hotel. I could think of worse places to stay, but you get arrested for sleeping in the street.
The parking lot and sidewalks are cracked, but it seems like they’ve been at least spraying the weeds. Faded paint and chipped trim welcome me as I reach the entrance. Stepping inside, I hear the door chime right before I’m blasted in the face by air-conditioning. I gasp, but immediately clamp my mouth shut. The air doesn’t taste like the normal staleness. Instead, this tastes…wrong.
That’s the best way I can describe it.
With my lips sealed, I have to breathe through my nose and that’s even worse. Now I’m getting hints of cigarettes mixed with body odor, and it makes me nauseous. Is that what I just tasted? I bite the inside of my cheek, steeling myself before I take a big breath to hold as I walk down the hall to the elevators. I have to do it again once I’m inside.
I punch the button for the third floor over and over, wanting the door to close as quickly as possible. The farther from the lobby I get, the better. I hope this breath will last me long enough to get to Sam’s room. When the elevator doors finally open, I quickly direct myself toward room 305. A relieved sigh escapes me when I realize it’s only a few doors down.
I knock before exhaling. As I take in little sips of air, I notice my toes tapping against the floor. A good sign that I’m actually excited for this. I haven’t wanted to put myself out there in a year, and to an extent, this feels good. I don’t know what’s in store for me tonight, but I do know my curiosity needs to be sated.
After a few moments, I knock again.
No answer. Great. I probably have the worst timing and he’s in the bathroom. What a way to begin a date.
I shake my head. This isn’t a date!
Before I can argue with myself any more, the door opens, and my anxiety ebbs as Sam comes into full view.
He stands in the doorway, his hair a damp mess with curls spilling all around his head. The light-brown strands glint in the fluorescent lighting. His dark brown eyes widen before a grin spreads across his clean-shaven face.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hey,” I respond, also quiet. So quiet in fact, I’m not even sure I heard myself. I clear my throat. “Hey.” Better that time.
“I’m almost ready to go.” He steps back to allow me to enter. “Do you want to come in?”
I hesitate, but the softness in his eyes reassures me, so I nod and step past him. Making sure to keep my posture confident, I say, “I found a few things we can go do, but they’re all across town.”
“I’m up for anything.” He shuts the door before turning to face me and putting his hands in his pockets. “But I don’t have a car here, and Walt won’t let anyone touch his baby, so if you don’t mind driving...”
Relief floods me. Not only will we be going to a public place, but I’ll be the one driving. Sam hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him, but I don’t know him. He also doesn’t know me. I wonder if he worries about me kidnapping him? “I don’t mind, but that means you’d be at my mercy.” I plaster on a wicked smirk.
His confident gaze stays fixed on mine. “I think I can handle that.”
The gruffness of his voice makes my breath catch, so I quickly clear my throat and pull out my phone to scroll through my activity list. “Um, there’s a mini-golf place, or we could walk around a park. Worse comes to worst we can always go do laps around the mall.” When he doesn’t laugh, I glance up to find him still staring. “Sam?”
“Oh, uh, right.” He blinks several times. “Any of that sounds good, but I was actually hoping maybe you’d take me to that ice cream place you were raving about.”
“Really?”
He nods. “I mean, I know you already had ice cream today, but it looked really good.”
The huskiness in his voice as his gaze dips to my mouth makes me think he’s not really talking about the ice cream. Heat creeps up my neck. “I’m always up for more ice cream.”
Sam grabs his wallet and phone, and we’re out the door. We don’t talk at all during our jaunt through the hotel, both holding our breath. Once we get outside, we both let our lungs loose and turn to each other with smiles.
“You can’t stand the smell, either?” I ask.
“Who could? I feel bad for the poor employees stuck in there.”
With a chuckle, I lead him to Lisa’s old Honda. “Sorry, it’s not a Mercedes.”
“You’re telling me,” he says as he studies the car. “Are you sure we can make it to the ice cream place?”
I tilt my head from side to side. “I can’t promise anything.”
When Sam’s expression turns skeptical, I laugh. “Just get in.” I hop into the driver’s seat and start the car, making sure to roll all the windows down. “Hope you don’t mind fresh air.”
“Not at all,” he says, buckling his seat belt. “How far is this ice cream place, anyway?”
“A couple of miles.” I turn, giving him a wry look. “Why? Are you itching to get back to your hotel room or something?”
His brow furrows so fast, it’s comical. “Fuck, no. Just wondering how long I have to wait to get my lips on something sweet.”
The depth to his voice returns, and I have to rein myself back in to keep from swooning. I choose to nod instead of speaking as I pull out of the parking lot. If I opened my mouth, an embarrassing chortle, like Goofy’s “ha-yuck,” would probably come out. Silence is better than that.
After a few blocks, Sam breaks the lull. “Do you listen to music?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because the radio is off. I thought maybe you enjoyed your own thoughts better.”
I chuckle. “No, but Lisa and I have differing tastes, and she was the last one to decide on what we were listening to.” I jut my chin at the radio. “Go ahead. Turn it on. I dare you.”
“Ooh, a challenge.” Sam rubs his hands together before pressing the power knob. When the lyrics to “Rock the Boat”by The Hues Corporation come pouring from the speakers, Sam looks at me inquisitively.
“I warned you.”
“Fun.” His tone sounds anything but amused as he presses the knob, basking us in sweet silence once again. “Your friend has…an interesting taste in music.”
“She’s really into oldies, but she goes through phases with the decades. Right now, it’s disco.”
“So, what do you listen to?”
“Honestly, a little of everything.”
“Except disco.”
“I don’t mind it, but I can’t handle it on the same level as Lisa,” I say as I pull into the ice cream parlor parking lot. “One of my favorite bands is Imagine Dragons.”
Sam stares at me, his eyes narrowed slightly and his lips turned up. “I love them. Walt and I saw them in concert a few days ago.”
“I bet that was a great show.” My heart swells at the idea we have more in common than mud.
He leans toward me. “Second best thing I’ve laid eyes on this week.”
My mouth runs dry, heat rushes to my face, and my stomach does this weird flip thing as I sit here, stunned.
“Let’s get some ice cream.” Sam winks before getting out of the car.
My breath whooshes from my lips as I roll up the windows and cut the engine. If he keeps talking like this, I might need a triple scoop. I meet Sam on the sidewalk, his now easy grin relaxing me, and we step inside to a crowded shop. After ordering our cones, me with butter pecan again and him with mint chocolate chip, Sam agrees to sit outside.
A few moments of silence hang between us before he groans in delight. “I know you said it was good, but this is amazing.”
“Glad you like it.” Pride swells in me, but it only keeps me afloat for a moment before the heaviness of the silence hits me again. “So, Sam, where are you from?”
He eyes me suspiciously, but takes a lick. “Wyoming. Casper, specifically.”
“Oh.” My heart sinks, but I’m not sure why. “That’s a long way to drive for a mud race.”
“Well, I don’t have a whole lot else going on right now.” He rubs the back of his neck. “See, I joined the unemployment ranks at the beginning of summer.”
“Sorry, that sucks.”
He shrugs. “It’s okay. It was just a job at a local hardware store. It wasn’t my career, but it paid pretty well so I saved a bunch of money. So, before I dive back into the job world, I decided to take some time to hang out with Walt this summer.” He sounds sad about that fact, like he’s losing his friendship to a job.
“Cool.” I swirl my ice cream across my tongue. “What all have you guys done?”
Sam’s swallow is audible as I finish my lick. “Uh, nothing too crazy. Other than the Mud Down and the concert, we’ve been hanging out. Doing friend stuff.”
“Do you guys have the same hobbies?”
“Mostly.” He tilts his head from side to side. “We play video games, go to the bar, go to the gym, but he’s into cars and I’m not.”
“Three out of four isn’t bad, though.”
He chuckles. “No, it’s not. Unless he’s dragging me to a car show. He’s been making me go to those things for four years, ever since we turned eighteen. I go because I love the guy, but I spend the whole time checking my watch.”
“That’s about the way I feel when Lisa makes me watch Christmas movies with her.”
“You don’t like Christmas movies?” Sam quirks an eyebrow.
“Not in August.” I exaggerate my eye roll, which has Sam laughing, and the sound sends a thrill through me.
“At least we understand each other’s pain.”
The common sentiment has my cheeks heating, so I nod and lick my ice cream again. Sam’s intent stare makes me smile. When I giggle, it seems to break his trance, and he goes back to his own ice cream. I guess I’m not the only one who needs to cool down.
Sam pops the last bit of his cone into his mouth. “That was delicious. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.” I finish my last bite with a smile, taking a long moment to chew it. I’m not sure what we’re doing after this, but I do know I don’t like the idea of saying goodnight. Which means I’m not ready to be done. We’ve connected on a few levels, and I want to see how much more we have in common. I check the time. It’s only a little after seven, still plenty of daylight left. “Do you want to go for a walk? There’s a park near here with a pond.”
Sam’s face lights up. “I’d love to.”
We leave Lisa’s car in the parking lot and head down the street together. Sam shoves his hands in his pockets. “So, Brynn, tell me about yourself.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. What do I talk about? I could tell him how I’m going into my last year as a chemistry major, practically first in line for my professor’s internship at her environmental lab. When I get that spot, I’ll be working toward preserving nature by saving it from humanity’s harsh chemical usage. That’s pretty exciting.
But, he didn’t mention going to school at all, so maybe he doesn’t? What if he can’t afford it? Especially now that he’s unemployed.
If that’s the case, I shouldn’t bring up my tutoring job. Not only am I employed, but it’s flexible so I still get all the time I want with my friends. Since he thinks entering the career world will take him away from his best friend, I’m only going to make him feel bad.
Ugh, everything I have going for me sounds like I’m bragging. So, I opt for the safe route. “I like to run.”
“Big surprise there.” He gives me a teasing wink. “Is that all you do in your spare time?”
“No. I hang out with Lisa and my other friends, Jackie and Hannah. They’re my roommates, so one of them is always around. I like to go hiking, which Lisa will do with me, but Jackie and Hannah are more into watching movies or shopping. We do go to the bar on ladies’ night, though. Cheap drinks and dancing is always fun.”
“Okay, that’s where you lose me. You dance?”
I scoff. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”
“Nothing. I just have a hard time picturing that tough woman on the mud course today shaking her hips...” His gaze floats toward the sky, his forehead crinkling. “Never mind. I can picture it just fine.”
I giggle. “Do you dance?”
“Me? No. Not a step.”
“Hm. Too bad,” I say with a pout. “Few things are sexier than a guy who can move to a beat.”
Sam clears his throat. “I’d be willing to learn.”
A laugh escapes me, but it fades, and I stop walking. An impetuous idea has taken hold of me, and I’m fighting it. It’s too outrageous.
Sam looks back, confusion spreading across his face when he notices I’m a few steps behind him. “Brynn?”
I flick my gaze away to find an empty covered patio. This crazy notion pokes at me some more, and I can’t ignore it. Grabbing Sam’s arm, I pull him toward it. Once we’re situated in the middle of the picnic tables, I turn to Sam, excitement bubbling within me. “Lesson one.”
“What?”
“You said you’d be willing to learn to dance. Here’s your first lesson.”
He laughs, but quickly stops when he sees I’m not laughing. “You can’t be serious.”
“Absolutely, I am. I can teach you how to two-step. It’s real easy.”
“But there’s no music.”
I shrug. “Sometimes it’s easier to learn when you can count your own beat. Come on.” I wave my hands in the air, motioning for him to remove his hands from his pockets.
Hesitantly, he does, but holds them in the air in question. “What do I do?”
“One hand here.” I take his left hand in my right. “And the other, here.” When I place his right hand on my waist, I have to suppress a shiver. His breath hitches, too. I lay my left hand on his muscular shoulder, fighting the urge to drag my fingers along the defined ridges. “You’re in the lead position, but follow me so you can get the movement down, okay?”
He nods, his fingers digging into me.
“You walk forward with your right foot.” I tug on him gently, and he follows. We go through some basics, like what is a fast step and what’s considered slow. I count out loud the whole time. He only steps on my feet twice, apologizing profusely when it happens, and I can’t help but smile at his vulnerability. Eventually, we pick up the pace, and I introduce the skip.
Sam’s almost what I would call a natural. Sure, he makes some mistakes, but he learns from them and corrects himself each time. It’s impressive. Not to mention, sexy as hell.
After a few minutes, he asks, “Can I lead now?”
“Sure.” I pull out my phone. “How about some music this time?”
He nods, so I tap into my music app. The melodic guitar of “Most People Are Good” by Luke Bryan begins, and so does Sam.
It’s a rocky start, but soon he’s leading me around the patio like a pro. Hard to believe, only fifteen minutes ago, he was following me around like a scared puppy, worried he was going to break one of my toes. Now, he’s gliding along like he’s been doing this for years.
The sparkle in his eyes makes my heart rate speed up, but it’s when he starts singing along to the song that it skips a beat. I feel as light as a feather. This moment is perfect. Between the setting sun, the music, and Sam’s thumb caressing my hand, I lose myself.
I don’t let go often, which is why when I go dancing, I dance by myself. I don’t like to be led. If a guy wants to dance with me, fine, but he doesn’t control me. I usually keep a tight grip on myself. Right now, though, I can’t hold on. I close my eyes and let Sam lead.
As the music fades, Sam slows his pace. The song ends, and he lets go of my waist to twirl me around as our last step.
Though I miss the thrill of his touch, I step away to gape at him. “You’re a fast learner, Mr. Eastman.”
He hikes a shoulder to his ear. “I may or may not have danced with my mom at my aunt’s wedding.”
“Oh, so you lied about not dancing?” I tilt my chin up as I fold my arms.
“I didn’t lie.” He points upward. “I said I don’t dance, which is true. I just didn’t tell you that I two-stepped with my mom when I was eight years old.”
My giggle is cut short when I notice our hands are still joined. I swallow, turning toward the setting sun. “Sam, it’s getting dark, but I don’t want this night to end yet.”
“I know. Me neither.” He tugs on my hand, pulling me toward him. “I don’t want to sound creepy, but would you want to come back to my room and hang out some more?”
Normal, rational Brynn would say “hell no” to a request like that, but she’s taking a back seat on this ride. Care-free Brynn is here, and she doesn’t overthink as much. Since a million butterflies rush through me, all from the excitement of extending our date, I say, “Yes, I would.”
His face spreads into a wide smile. “Let me text Walt that we’ll be coming back.”