7. Chapter 7
The next morning, I wake in an empty bed. It’s not at all what I expect. I don’t know exactly what I expected, but I thought I’d wake up with Sam’s arms still around me, since that’s how we fell asleep last night. At the very least, with him laying next to me. Instead, I’m wrapped in the thin hotel blanket, still naked, and quite confused.
At first, I think Sam is in the bathroom. I sit very still, and listen carefully, but I don’t hear anything. No running water, no hum of an electric razor, not even the shuffling of a toothbrush. I’m all alone.
Panic bubbles in my gut. Which is a strange sensation considering the defeat that’s weighing down my chest.
How could he leave? After everything we shared last night? After a night I can only describe as magical? Was it all a lie?
Of course it was. I’m so incredibly stupid. How could I have believed everything he said? I let some guy feed me a load of crap and I ate it up. This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever?
The click of the hotel room door pulls my attention away from my pity party, and I gather the blankets to my chest. I expect it to be housekeeping, but instead, Sam waltzes through the doorway. He’s holding a cardboard drink carrier with three to-go cups in it while a plate of breakfast foods balances on top. He tucks his keycard into his pocket and takes the plate off the stack.
I sniffle, and his head whips up. “Hey, you’re awake!” The excited expression on his face falls the longer he looks at me. “Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” He walks to the bed, setting the food and drinks on the side table before taking a seat next to me.
I swipe at my dewy lashes as I shake my head. “I thought you left.”
His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion until understanding dawns on him. “Oh, Brynn. How could you think I would? Well, why wouldn’t you?” He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you, but I thought you’d like something to eat.” When he finally opens his eyes, all I see is remorse.
“It’s okay. I over-thought things. Again.” I shrug, plastering on a big smile to show he’s forgiven. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
He grimaces. “Now, that is something I should apologize for.” Turning to grab the plate, he sets it on the bed between us. “The only thing that even seemed edible were the bagels, but I didn’t know what kind you’d like so I took one of each.”
I stare at the pile of assorted bagels, noting the cinnamon raisin one. “Anything except that one. I’m allergic to cinnamon.”
“Really? I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“Mhm.”
“All right, well then...” Sam proceeds to pull a bagel from the opposite side of the plate. “How about blueberry? It’s the only one the cinnamon bagel didn’t touch.”
I laugh. “I don’t know that I’m that allergic, but thanks.”
Sam almost seems to get lost as he looks at me, because he quickly blinks and clears his throat. “There’s coffee, but again, didn’t know what you like, so I got two cups and all the cream and sugar I could carry.”
I pop a piece of bagel in my mouth. “If you got two cups of coffee, why is there a third cup in the tray?”
“Oh, because as I was pouring the coffee, it struck me that you might be a tea person. So I grabbed a cup of hot water and one of each tea. You know, all four of them.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at his thoughtfulness. “I do like tea sometimes, but coffee is a necessity.” I eye the drink tray as he hands me a cup. “And I’d say you brought just enough cream and sugar for me.”
“You’re going to use all of it?” He gives me an incredulous look.
“Unless you want some.”
“No, I like mine black. Puts hair on your chest.” He pounds his fist against his pec.
I cover my mouth with my hand as I laugh with a mouthful of food. “What about the tea, though?”
“You can take it home. Consider it your consolation prize for having to choke down this award-winning breakfast.”
We share a laugh, but as hungry as we are, we finish the whole plate of bagels. He eats three of the five, including the cinnamon raisin, and I even take a chance that the plain bagel went uncontaminated, even though it touched the cinnamon one. I live through it.
Toward the end of our meal, my phone chimes. As I lean over the side of the bed to fish it out of my shorts, I only take half the blanket with me. It slides down my torso, exposing my breasts. I hear what sounds like Sam choking, then coughing. A huge, flattered grin spreads across my face, but I groan when I read my message.
“Who is it?” Sam chokes out.
“Lisa,” I reply, sitting back up. I purposefully don’t cover myself. “She wants to know if I’m alive and when she’s getting her car back.”
Sam doesn’t say anything, so I glance up from my phone to find his gaze fixed on my chest. I clear my throat, and his head whips up. I arch my eyebrows in question.
“To be fair, they were staring at me first.”
A hearty laugh escapes me, making my whole body shake, and Sam’s gaze drops back down.
“Uh uh, buddy. Up here,” I say, putting my finger under his chin and lifting his head. I pull the blanket up again.
“Shucks.” He snaps his fingers, but his forehead crinkles. “Wait, Lisa wants her car back? It’s not yours?”
I shake my head as I type my response to Lisa. “I don’t own a car. I have a license, and I know how to drive, but I haven’t owned a car in a couple years.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I realized I don’t really need one, and it’s one more thing I can do to help the environment.”
Sam hums. “So, what did you tell Lisa?”
“I said we were eating breakfast, and I’d be back in a little while.” My heart sinks as I say the words. Leaving Sam is inevitable, but saying it out loud makes it real, and I’m not ready to let him go.
He must feel it too, because he doesn’t say anything more as he watches his fingers pick at imaginary lint on the blanket.
We sit in heavy silence for several minutes, both filling our mouths with either food or drink as a means of avoiding speaking. Neither of us wants to address the humongous elephant in the room. You know, the one that’ll eventually step between us.
When Sam swallows the last of his bagel, he picks up his coffee cup and twirls it on his thigh. “Okay, Brynn. Instead of sitting here in silent tension, we should talk about…you know.”
“About how eventually we’re going to have to leave this bed, and this hotel, and drive back to our respective homes without each other?”
“Yeah.” His voice shakes.
I take a deep breath as I blink away the tears forming. “What do we need to say? We both knew this”?I wave my hand between us?“had an expiration. We’ve just hit our time limit, and now we have to face the music.”
“It’s such a sad song, though.”
A tear breaks free and slides down my cheek. I feel silly for being this emotional over a man I just met. But when Sam wipes it away and cups my cheek, the embarrassment subsides. This feels too right to wave off. I cover his hand with mine and nuzzle into his palm.
We don’t say anything more about the inevitable. What could we say? We both knew it was coming, and there was nothing we could do about it. Also, we both seem to understand there’s not a future here. We haven’t officially said we’re not going to see each other again, but there’s an unspoken conversation happening, and the theme is “this is the end.”
But instead of wallowing in our sadness, we fill our last moments together with light-hearted topics such as our mediocre breakfast, the horrible smell of the hotel, and the general discomfort of the mattress. Our laughter lifts the mood. It distracts us from the knowledge of our looming deadline.
Then, the Mud Down gets brought up.
“It was a great race,” Sam says cheerfully. “I can’t wait to do it again next year.”
A hollowness engulfs me at the idea of the Mud Down being another year away. I’m always a little sad when this weekend is over, but now I’m losing Sam, too. The idea of a long-distance relationship briefly pops into my mind. Wyoming isn’t that far away from Greeley. It could work.
But after the devastating story he told last night, I know long-distance isn’t something he’d go for. Besides, I’ve already lied about where I live, so I’d be backtracking on what I’ve told him. It would make me a jerk. I don’t want to end our time together by apologizing for being dishonest.
“I don’t want it to end,” I say through more tears.
Sam gathers me to his chest, running his hand down my hair, tugging gently on one of my braids. “Me neither. I’d stay here with you forever if I could, but we can’t stop time.”
I glance at the clock. It’s 8:47 a.m. “When is checkout?”
“Um, ten-thirty, I think. Why?”
“What would you say to us making the last hour and a half we have together really count?” I bob my eyebrows.
A mischievous grin takes over Sam’s face. “You’re the perfect woman, Brynn Erlenmeyer.”
Standing in the parking lot and sulking, I sag against Sam’s chest as he holds me tight. We’ve been loitering here a good five minutes while Walt waits in the running car behind us. I’m surprised he hasn’t honked yet.
Sam finally tucks his knuckle under my chin, lifting my head up. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”
“How?” I choke out.
He shrugs, grimacing. “I don’t know, but you’ll see. Everything will work out. We’ll be all right.”
I snort, swiping at my nose. “You’re placating me, now.”
“Yeah, well, what else can I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Listen, I don’t want to let go of you any more than you do me. Just thinking about it has my guts twisting.” He sounds angry, but it’s not directed at me. “If I could take you with me, or go with you, I would in a heartbeat.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” It’s a joke, but when Sam doesn’t laugh, I look up to find a fire in his eyes.
“I’m not that guy, Brynn. I don’t pick up random women, and I certainly don’t invite women I’ve just met to my hotel room to have sex. This wasn’t a meaningless hook-up for me. I hope it wasn’t for you, either.”
I swallow down my shame. “Of course not.
His expression softens, a tinge of remorse in his features. “But I also don’t have a magic wand. That’s not how life works.”
“I know.” I hate how pathetic I sound.
A warm smile crosses his lips. “And we can talk still, right? You’ve got my number, and I have yours. It’s not like we’ll never communicate again.”
It’s a grain of sand in an ocean, but I latch onto it with all my strength. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Come here.” Sam wraps me in his strong embrace and connects our mouths. It’s the tenderest of kisses, much like our first on the balcony last night. Our lips caress each other’s as we try to stretch this moment as long as possible.
But it’s over too soon.
Sam releases me from his grip, and I’m so incredibly cold. Never mind that it’s already eighty degrees outside. He slips into the passenger side of the car, his expression tight as he waves through the window. The car backs out of the parking space, moves through the lot, and pulls onto the road, driving away from me without even a second glance.
I manage to get to Lisa’s car before I collapse into it and spend an exorbitant amount of time letting the tears flow freely.