Chandler
CHANDLER
F uck me. The way she’s looking at me has my head spinning. Her eyes are dark like they were right before we kissed in the elevator. Like they were when we were all over each other in the pool. Now we’re stuck in my childhood home with only one room with a fucking bed. Fucking hell. I need a drink.
"Do you want a drink?"
"Uh," she pauses for a minute. "Sure. What is there?"
"As far as I know, everything. I don't think he took any of his liquor with him. I'll go check."
I bolt downstairs and go into the kitchen, opening the cabinet above the refrigerator. God, this place is a mess. It wasn't like this when I moved him out. What happened? Have squatters been taking up shelter here? Has he even been back here since he moved in with my sister? I'll have to ask Cheyenne tomorrow. I find his best scotch and wash two glasses before filling them up and going back upstairs. I'm just glad the electricity works in this place. It's bullshit that the air doesn't work. It's way too hot in this house, and I'm breaking into a sweat going up the stairs. Sleeping will probably be miserable tonight, even with a window open. I sleep shirtless anyway, but it won't do any good with this damn humidity. I wonder if Sam sleeps naked. Okay, let's not go there. I know she's into me, but her weird 'I am woman, hear me roar' quest to have a one-night stand means she probably doesn't want to sleep with someone she works with. There's an obvious attraction between us, which I'm sure is being fueled by us making out in the pool, but maybe it was just a result of her dry spell. Seven months is way too long. Hell, I'm going on almost 1 month, and I feel like I might implode. But none of that matters. All that matters right now is making sure she feels comfortable in the house tonight. I need to stop thinking about it. When I go back upstairs, Sam is on her phone.
"I don't know if you'll like it, but it's the best he's got." I set the glass on the nightstand next to the bed and take a sip of whiskey. Its smooth and woody flavor makes me nostalgic. I used to sneak some of this stuff when I was a teenager, and I didn't like it very much then, but now I need to get myself a bottle of this stuff. I watch Sam sip her own drink and set it back down, her face neutral. Okay, not into scotch. I should have known that.
"So," she says, looking up from her phone. "What is it like being back in your hometown?"
"It's different."
"How so?"
"I don't know. Things just feel different here every time I come home."
It's the fact that I've distanced myself from being the one everyone depends on. I'd still do anything for my family, no matter how much I didn't want to, but moving was the only way I could find some sense of myself. She's toying with her bottom lip, and I take another sip of my drink to try to drown out the rising desire. It does nothing to dampen it .
"?"
I look at her, and she's nervous about whatever it is she wants to say. "Yeah?"
"What...." She pauses for a moment, and my heart races with anticipation.
I've never seen Sam hesitate to ask me a question. And I can't think of anything I wouldn't want to talk about with her. "What happened to your parents?"
Except for that. That subject isn't something I divulge into very often. Or ever. She senses my reluctance because she says, "Never mind. Sorry."
"It's fine to be curious," I say, and take a seat on the floor next to the bed. "I've been curious about your mom before, but I thought it was kind of a sore subject."
"It's fine." She slides down from the bed to sit beside me, our shoulders touching. "There's not much to talk about when it comes to my mom. She's a free spirit, always has been."
"Is that where you get your spunk from?"
She gives out a little laugh and looks down at the floor. "Maybe," she says. "We moved around a lot. I think the longest we ever stayed in one place was 2 years, and that was only because I begged her to let me finish high school with real friends so I wouldn't have to start all over."
"Oh," I say. I can't imagine what that must have been like for her. I was always itching to leave this small town, and when I finally did, it felt like the world was at my feet. Being back here has its cons, but it's still home. I wonder what she considers to be home or if she considers any place home at all.
"Did you go to school in Florida?” I ask.
"No, I moved there after college with my friend Penny."
"The one who sends you porn?"
She takes another drink and cringes. I can't tell if it's from the scotch or the question. "I was hoping you forgot about that."
"I may forget a lot of things, but I think I'll remember that until the day I die."
"Oh, good. Maybe you can mention it at my funeral."
"That's okay. I like having a secret with you."
She blushes and looks away. I want to turn her head toward me and kiss her again, but the thought is interrupted by my phone buzzing. It's a message from Derrick. God, this guy just won't quit, will he?
"Everything okay?"
I give Sam an amused smile. "Looks like Derrick and Cheyenne made it home okay. He just sent me a picture of the gym he set in his garage."
I show her the photo he sent me, and she scrunches her nose.
"What is it with fitness fanatics?'
“He tries to get me to exercise with him every fucking time I come down here, and it drives me insane.”
“I could tell, but don’t think I’m going to be torturing myself by working out while we’re here. Walks are nice, but not running, jumping, or really anything that involves going faster than a turtle.”
“I don’t plan on working out with Derrick. I like to do it by myself. Maybe you could fake an injury or something, so he feels bad.”
“You want to use me as an excuse?”
“I can’t use work as an excuse when we’re off on the weekend.”
“Hmm," she says, thinking for a moment. Then looks at me with a mischievous smile. “Maybe I hurt my ankle when I walked up the porch steps,"
“Oh, that’s good," I say, grinning. “And then I had to carry you inside. "
“And it was swollen, and I could hardly move my foot.”.
“So, I carried you up the steps and into the guest bedroom.” I don’t know when we started to lean in or when her lips got so close to mine that I could feel her breath on my lips. But the feeling of her being so close to me has my heart beating like a fucking hammer. “And you were nervous about tripping in the middle of the night, and you asked me to stay. ”
“And you did.”
"And so I did."