28. Sam
sam
. . .
An alarm blares, and I startle awake. My eyes blink, and everything comes back into focus.
Once again, I’m instantly bogged down with the weight of everything that's happened. Even seeing my bedspread over the top of me does nothing to ease the tension in my body. Sitting up, I notice the apartment is quiet. Jameson’s side of the bed next to me is empty as well.
I slide out of bed and walk quietly down the hall to Dylan’s room.
My brow rises when I see she’s not in there and her backpack for daycare is gone.
I turn and leave, heading to the living room next, only to find that and the kitchen empty also.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up Jameson’s number right as the lock engages on the front door and it opens.
He walks in, his eyes instantly finding me, his heated gaze running from the top of my head to my bare toes. His lips kick up in an easy smile.
“You didn’t oversleep. I just got Dylan up and off to daycare so we could talk before your classes.”
My brow rises and my arms cross over my chest. “Oh. Are you letting me go home?”
His eyes flare. “Fuck no. This is your home, Sam. And don’t deny it. You spent half the night with Dylan unpacking your things and spreading them around the apartment.”
“Then what do we need to talk about before my classes?” I snap at him, my cheeks heating, remembering that I did in fact do all those things.
He sighs and his head tilts back. When his gaze comes back to mine, he looks pained. “Your classes are important to you. Getting your degree is part of your goals and I want you to have that.” He takes a piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to me. “Here.”
My fingers curl around the yellow post-it and I look at a series of numbers. “99913?”
“The age we met. My hockey number. Your hockey number. The age I knew I wanted you forever. That's the code to the lock,” he answers.
My knees sway and my heart thumps in my chest. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m giving you the code so you can leave, go to class, go to practice before your coach freaks out, see your girls.
Live your life. I just hope you come home to me.
When you walk through that door again, we’re moving on.
We’re going to forget about the past, accept that this is our future.
I’ll be taking care of you. You are getting your dreams, Sam.
Every single last thing on that list, I will make come true for you.
I just need you to want it, baby. I need you to want it as bad as I do,” he explains, his heart pouring into every word.
Tears mist my eyes. It physically hurts to stand here and watch him. To hear the pain and hope wrapped in his voice. Staying means accepting and that means I can forgive it all. My heart squeezes painfully.
Jameson steps toward me, his hands cradling my face. “Stay with me.”
My tears flow down my cheeks, wetting my lips before falling onto his hands. He groans before dropping his mouth to mine, his tongue sweeping in, devouring me. His fingers thread through my hair and fist at my scalp. I let out the moan I was holding.
“Beautiful,” he mutters before he’s dipping back in, his teeth on my lips nipping hard.
I gasp and his tongue slides into my mouth tangling with mine.
I can taste his spearmint toothpaste and the coffee he drinks as soon as he leaves the house.
I lose myself in this kiss, giving as good as I get, my teeth grazing his full bottom lip, and soothing it with my tongue.
My hands roam over his back, his shoulders, and eventually to his hair.
He forces my head to the side, kissing me deeper, taking more of me like he’s scared it might be the last time.
My own fears plague me and I allow myself this time to just feel him.
To memorize the way his skin feels against my fingertips, and the way the stubble on his cheeks feels against the sensitive skin on my neck.
His hands travel up my waist, curving around my ribs, close to my breast, close enough to feel the way my heartbeat is pounding for him.
There is no hiding the effect that Jameson Kane has on me.
All too soon, he’s pulling back, his forehead touches mine. His breathing is heavy and his lips are red and swollen from me. “I want nothing more than to take you to our room and make love to you right now, but if we do, you’ll miss class, and I won’t make that choice for you.”
His words are a perfect icy shower for my libido.
Untangling my fingers from his hair, I take a small step back.
He’s right. I was close to letting him take me to the bedroom, but I would have been angry if I followed through.
Jameson knows me well and he knows I’m about to crawl out of my skin after missing the past two days.
My coach will not accept any more missed practices either.
“I’m sorry.”
He reaches out and pushes my hair behind my ear. “Nothing to be sorry about, Pretty Girl.” He puts more distance between us and I see him adjust himself in his pants. “I have to head to the garage. Don’t forget to lock up.”
His words hang between us, a hope, a prayer, a request that I’ll come back tonight.
I watch him go, feeling too much and not knowing what to do.
I rush to the bedroom and get dressed, quickly pull my hair up and grab my bag, phone and keys.
On the way out, I punch in the code and hear the lock slam shut.
For some reason, it feels so final. Not giving myself time to overthink, I head to my Jeep and drive to campus.
The second my feet hit the sidewalk in front of my first class, thin, feminine arms wrap around me and I’m almost bulldozed by one of my best friends.
“I’m so happy to see you!” Emma screams, hugging me close. “I told Riley we’d give it one more day before storming over to the garage to check on you.”
I’m really glad she didn’t. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine.”
“So Kane finally let you out of his sex dungeon?” Riley jokes, coming up behind us and throwing her arm around my shoulders. Isla is with them and gives me a soft, gentle hug.
“They did plan a rescue mission,” she jokes as she pulls back and steps to my side.
Shaking my head, I don’t know if I should cry or laugh. “I’m so confused,” I admit to my friends and see varying degrees of understanding, worry, and support.
“Are you going back to your place tonight?” Emma asks.
A laugh bubbles out of my chest. “I don’t have a place anymore. Jameson moved all my stuff into his home and my apartment is being rented to someone else.”
Emma’s jaw drops open and Riley grins. “Damn. Kane really went for it.”
I scoff at Riley. “I think he’s been too chatty with your boyfriend, Riles.”
She shrugs, a smile still on her face. “I was shocked at first until I remembered how I got here as well.”
“We need to evaluate. I want to know what else Kane did.” Emma huffs lightly, crossing her arms.
“We should have a girls’ night,” Riley adds.
I snort and glance between the two. “Both of your guys are traitors and clearly Team Jameson. I’m not having a girls’ night to dissect everything around those two.”
“We could use my place,” Isla says with hesitancy. “I promise it's not the bat cave.”
My eyes widen before I break out into a huge smile. “Yes! Isla’s place would be perfect. No way any of those guys have the place bugged with cameras.”
Riley and Emma share a glance. “Reign definitely has our place surveilled.”
“I wouldn’t put it past Hawke either,” Emma agrees.
“Are you both okay with that?” My gaze moves between the two, both of whom I think of as independent and strong.
Riley shrugs. “I know he does it because he wants to protect me. It’s overkill in my opinion, but it helps him feel better when he’s gone for away games and things.”
Emma blushes. “I don’t even know if Hawke has anything or not. I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s very protective of me and he’s gone a lot during football season then I’m gone during hockey season. If it helps him sleep better at night to know I’m safe, then I wouldn’t be mad.”
“Are you upset?” Isla asks me, her hand running down my arm.
“If I had known or he had explained beforehand, I might have felt differently. We also weren’t together at the time I moved in either.
I just think he had time to come clean before I found out and things could have gone better than being blindsided.
” I try to explain how I feel, and even to me, I don’t hear anger in my voice; it actually sounds like I’m defending him and excusing what happened.
“We have to get to class.” Riley taps me on the shoulder. “Girls’ night, though, after practice. Isla’s place!”
“See you then,” I tell them, and we all head in different directions until our shared classes.
My classes pass by in a blur, and I'm thankful that Jameson took the initiative to have my friends take notes. I’m not as far behind as I thought I would be, surprisingly.
As he promised, Jameson hasn’t bombarded me with messages or calls today.
He’s truly given me the freedom to decide where I’m at and if I can move forward.
I need time to think and to be alone with my revelations. I hope Jameson can understand that.
Practice is much the same. Coach asks if I’m feeling better and doesn't push too hard for more. Tomorrow’s game starts the WCHA first round and everyone is hard at work determined to win, so we can advance. Thankfully, Coach doesn’t bring up the draft or ask to talk to me after practice.
My legs feel like rubber when I finally get off the ice.
My shoulders hurt from battling for the puck against the boards and my lungs feel like they haven’t breathed in icy air in weeks.
I make time for a shower and let the hot spray land on my back, helping to ease the ache.
Once I’m dressed, I find the girls, ready and waiting for me.
Riley is already typing furiously on her cell phone and Emma smirks over her shoulder.