“You’re not crazy,” Emily said sadly. “You’re a romantic.”
Gwen pursed her lips and said, “Thanks.”
Annie staggered to her feet from where she had been leaning against her girlfriend on the floor and now she plopped down next to Gwen and looked at her knowingly. “Didn’t you tell me that he wrote about being shy with people, especially women multiple times in his diary?”
“Yes,” Gwen murmured, picking at her thumbnail. “I know. But it just feels like he should know me. I don’t want to be just some woman he’s trying to talk to, I want to be…”
“The woman,” Annie said.
Emily said, “I need this to happen so I can tell everyone I know how you met.”
Gwen chuckled at that. “I don’t know. I just kept imagining that he would wake up and it would be like we were already comfortable with each other, you know? That it wouldn’t be weird at all.”
“I think he’s probably a little freaked out and shy,” Annie said calmly. “Also, he just woke up from a coma so cut him some slack. Make a move and see what happens.”
“Make a move?”
“Isn’t he a really physical guy?” Annie said. “His chart said he had a military history and obviously, the guy is built. And you’ve got PT with him. It’s perfect. Flirt with him while you’re working him out. Maybe the exercise will distract him and make him more comfortable.”
“Not a bad idea,” Gwen said. Truth be told, she had been obsessing about the idea of having her hands all over Sam even in a professional capacity for days. She’d brought herself to more than one orgasm thinking about it. “I’ll...consider it. Alright, alright.” She sat forward on the sofa and leaned on one hand, studying the Monopoly board. “Let’s finish this game already. I’m about to bankrupt all you bitches.”
Gwen had only one early in the morning and Sam was it. He had taken an appointment at eight o’clock. Most people didn’t like appointments so early and Gwen was used to getting paperwork done around that time. But this was even better. This meant they’d probably have the gym to themselves.
Gwen dressed up a little more than usual that morning, but since she was still running him through exercises, she wore her usual jeans. She just made sure they were a nice dark wash and as flattering to her ass as possible. She wore a loose and very soft dark gray sweater with a deep v-neck that hugged her curves, and a long necklace that just maybe drew some attention to her breasts. She also wore a glossy shade of lipstick and she put more effort than usual into some eye makeup because guys sometimes lost their minds over her doe eyes and she liked to get the lashes as thick and long as possible to encourage that reaction.
She arrived at work at half past seven and went to the courtyard to get caffeine and psych herself up. She realized this would be the first time she would see Sam out of a hospital room. Her heart was pounding and she couldn’t seem to stop it.
In the gym, Gwen reviewed Sam’s chart as she waited for him to arrive, and smiled to herself. It had to be the most confusing patient’s chart she’d ever seen. There were a lot of question marks and hypotheses from doctors and nurses who were stumped as to the cause of the coma and the cause of the cure. Gwen was only grateful that Olive had managed to slip her past the ICU with her bloody arm before they were discovered.
Gwen was staring at the chart, a dopey smile on her face as she sipped her latte and thought about Sam when Sam himself interrupted her.
“Um...hi.”
Gwen jerked up and nearly spilled her latte. When she looked up at him, she lost her breath.
Sam standing up and wearing real clothes was a whole lot different than Sam lying in a hospital bed or wearing a hospital gown. Now he was wearing very tight workout pants, a sleeveless tee and he carried a gym bag. His outfit showed off his formidable biceps, his broad chest and thighs like tree trunks.
Gwen gulped. She had seen plenty of hot guys and plenty of muscular guys before. As a physical therapist, she treated a lot of athletes. So Sam’s body type wasn’t totally unusual. But none of those other patients had been Sam, who was now smiling at her shyly, his wavy brown hair looking soft and tousled. She wanted to tangle her fingers in it. She also wanted to climb him like a tree.
“Hi Gwen,” Sam said softly. She stared up at him. His voice was like velvet. She didn’t remember him sounding like that before.
“Uh...hi.” Gwen swallowed and got to her feet, fighting to find within herself some bit of professionalism not yet corrupted by thoughts of Sam’s body on top of hers. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you too.” He smiled at her then and she thought she might actually pass out. None of this made sense, she thought. She couldn’t make sense of the bodybuilding model in front of her and all the passages in his diary about how he had trouble talking to people and making connections. Just the way he was looking at her… His brilliant green eyes flicked up and down her body as she stood. It looked so seductive, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe he didn’t.
“I want to work out your legs,” Gwen said stiffly. He looked slightly disappointed at that. She was supposed to flirt with him. Make a move, Emily had said. But his physical presence was making her nervous. Not in a bad way, but definitely in a way where she really hoped they’d both lose their senses and Sam would take her right there on the gym floor.
“I’m walking fine now,” Sam said. He demonstrated for her and when he turned around, she actually licked her lips at the sight of his tight ass in gym pants. “Shifter healing. I thought it would take a while longer but when I woke up...” He shrugged and returned to her.
“Okay,” she said nodding. “Well... Let me give you a full PT workout according to your case and then I’ll change the prescription for more sessions if I think you don’t need them.”
“Sure.” He was looming over her and she blinked up at him. She could feel his body heat radiating off of him. There seemed to be so much unspoken between them. Oceans of it. She wanted to ask him if he had heard her. Somehow they hadn’t talked about it. He had said “it’s you” upon waking and seeing her but maybe that meant nothing… “Lay down?” Gwen requested, gesturing to a mat. Her voice sounded too soft, too bedroomy. She cleared her throat.
Sam obeyed and laid down on the floor and Gwen knelt next to him. She watched the rise and fall of his chest and wondered if it was quicker than it should be. Was he affected at all? Did he like her? Had he heard her? She stumbled through giving her little lecture on the exercises and demonstrating the proper way to breathe through them because she was so distracted.
She licked her lips again and put her hands on his calf, folding his leg back. She held his calf under his arm and gently pushed his knee towards his chest, testing his flexibility. It made her have to brace her other hand on his thigh and her own breath was short as she stared down into Sam’s eyes.
“Good,” she whispered. “That’s good.”
Sam’s mouth was parted. She found herself absently massaging his thigh and watched his chest rise and fall a little faster.
“That feels good,” he murmurs.
“Oh…” She was breaking some kind of ethical code, she was sure. But she didn’t care now as she kept his leg folded and massaged his huge thigh, feeling the muscle quiver beneath her hands and watching his reaction subtly play out against his face. His lips twitched.
“I heard you,” he said.
“Hmm?” She couldn’t think about anything. Could hardly follow what he was saying as she looked into his eyes with her hands on his body. “I didn’t say anything?”
“In the void,” he said, his voice again both somehow soft and deep, like velvet. “Or whatever you call it. When I was in the coma. I could hear you. I heard everything.”
“Oh.” Gwen felt her entire face burning and new it must be scarlet red. “I’m… I… I read your diary-”
“It’s okay,” he said, and sat up now, stopping her hands with his own. “I think I’m glad you did.” He looked d
own at his hand covering hers against his thigh. “I’m glad you…” He licked his lips, mimicking her without meaning to and finally met her eyes. Her eyes seemed impossibly big and a rich color of brown that seemed to glimmer as he stared into them. “I feel…” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not good at this,” he whispered. “Sometimes I wish I was asleep again. Somehow it was easier.”
“I miss you,” Gwen said. “I miss you so much.” It was the move, even if it wasn’t a very good move, but it seemed to do the trick and his big hand cupped her cheek and all at once he leaned and covered her mouth with his.
As soft-spoken as Sam was, his kiss paid up on the promise of his big strong body and his bedroom eyes. His mouth was both hot and demanding and Gwen was immediately overwhelmed as his tongue licked at hers, his lips sliding along hers. She melted against him and in one smooth gesture, Sam lowered his leg and pulled Gwen into his lap, wrapping her in his arms. His body was as sure as his words were not. His shyness only went so far, she supposed. She moaned into his mouth and felt him growl a little, his palm spanning the small of her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tighter. She didn’t know how to think of the kiss, if she could have thought straight at all. It wasn’t like fireworks so much as like a hot, sweet, rich sauce and this kiss was only the first taste. He leaned back then and looked at her in surprise as if he hadn’t just plundered her mouth.
He was so much man, it was dizzying. She slid her arms from around his neck but now found herself distracted, pressing her palms to his shoulders and then the firm broadness of his chest as he still held her in his lap.
He was staring into her eyes and she felt guilty for the briefest moment. She looked back, and he smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Come over for coffee,” Gwen said. “When I’m off work?”
“I don’t drink coffee,” he said quickly, and she laughed, falling forward to nuzzle his neck, feeling him breathe beneath her.
“Come over to drink wine then,” she said, leaning back. She reached up to trace the arch of his nose and he took her hand in his and stared at her palm as if he were somehow baffled by her.
“I have good wine,” he said.
“Then I’ll come to your house,” she said, giggling again into his neck. She felt his arms tighten around her and she let her eyes slip shut, wondering what it would be like to wake up every morning encircled in them.
“You have the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard,” Sam said.
Gwen bit her lip at that and felt herself blushing. A figure in shadow flashed behind the door to the gym and she squeaked and scrambled out of his lap, attempting to collect herself.
“I am really glad that’s settled,” she said, feeling like a dizzy high school cheerleader. “But I should finish your exercises. If the wrong person walks in and sees me in your lap, I’ll be in trouble.” She shrugged apologetically. He didn’t seem disappointed. He had a dazed smile on his face and seemed unable to look away from her.
“The exercises might be hard,” Sam said, turning a little red. “Only… I mean… Jesus. Listen, you keep having to touch me a lot and, you know…”
“Oh.” She grinned at that. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen that type of thing before, but coming from Sam, she only wished they could get themselves alone. “Well, just think about baseball.”
Sam cast her a sort of helpless look and said, “There isn’t enough baseball in the world, Gwen.”
Gwen wanted to jump into his arms again and instead sat back on the floor, swallowing and rubbing her hands together. “Um…” She grinned up at him and quickly had to look away again. “Okay, exercises. Just do your best.”
She couldn’t look at him at all, she discovered. She could only direct him through leg lifts and stretches, all of which he seemed to be doing just fine. She might have been disappointed before, that he didn’t need any more PT, but now she saw that getting through even one session was difficult enough, not to mention after that kiss…
We kissed! We kissed! We kissed!
Her mind couldn’t seem to stop saying it. Her heart was all aflutter. She had him on his side and was helping him stretch his leg in the opposite direction. She had a million questions for him. But she was afraid she’d overwhelm him too quickly. She could talk a lot, she knew. She hoped not too much. Sam looked over at her again. He kept looking like he wanted to say something and stopping. She couldn’t tell if she should encourage him or let him come to her.
“The Matrix is my favorite movie,” he finally said, when he had sat up. Their exercises were over. But she had no other appointment for a few minutes. Now they were sitting on the floor facing each other.
Gwen blinked at him. “The Matrix?”
“When I was asleep,” he said. “You talked about so many things. A lot about movies. You um… You guessed my favorite, but you were wrong. My favorite is The Matrix.”
“Oh... Well, that’s a good pick.” Now she felt like the shy one. She couldn’t remember ever being so flustered with a date. Most of the time she was too busy trying to move the conversation along. Sam was different. The conversation was there, she knew. They had a kind of connection that was deeper than something you’d find on a date. She could feel it in her blood. Finding the sweet spot for their everyday relationship was just going to take some time. He nodded, seeming awkward again and her heart went out to him. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just quiet, and she wasn’t. She was used to talking a lot - patients seemed to appreciate that. Her family had always been loud. She wondered now if she was too loud for him.
As if reading her mind (and it seemed to her, that kept happening), Sam said, “You talked a lot more when I was asleep.”
She handed him a towel and watched him wipe the sweat from his neck. She had an urge to lean over and lick it off of him but people were trickling into the gym now. His hair was just a little damp, and long from having grown while he was comatose. A lock of hair fell over his bright green eyes and she saw now that he was reddish.
God, but he’s beautiful, she thought.
“I guess that was easier too,” she said, ducking her head. “But I do usually talk a lot.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Probably too much. Must have driven you crazy when I visited-”
“Gwen, no.” He took her hand in both of his and she smiled a little, always fascinated by how big his hands were, how they could swallow her up. But she looked up into his eyes, not wanting to miss a word. “I’ve been…” He squeezed his eyes shut. Ah, she thought. Feelings. He seemed to have trouble with those.
“You’ve been lonely,” she said, sure of what he had been about to say. She had read his diary after all. He had written about his ongoing grief and loneliness just days before being cursed. “You miss your friends.” She thought now of the pictures he had stuck into the diary of the four of them; four brave guardians who had been the best of friends and loved each other as brothers. She had a lump in her throat and tears quickly jumped behind her eyes. “You hear a song one of them loved or walk down a street where the four of you walked together, and it’s like it just happened all over again. And you fought the dark forces and all that and helped people because it’s what you love to do but it was also because it was the only thing that took your mind off of it.”
Sam looked stricken. He stared at her and nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. “I guess I forgot how much I wrote about that. But it’s… It was so much worse in the void. There was nobody, except Arthur when he would come. The nurses and doctors, they didn’t talk to me. I’d just hear them talking to each other. That was the worst really. Feeling like I was invisible. But then you…” He smiled brilliantly at her, squeezing her hand. “But then you came along and… I love listening to you talk, Gwen. I love-” He stopped himself and swallowed. “Anyway. I love listening to you talk.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said softly, and smiled back at him. “So…w
hat is your address anyway?”
12
Sam
Gwen was coming over.
Gwen was coming over to Sam’s house. Until then, however, Sam had nothing to do. He went home and found himself sitting on his overpriced overstuffed sofa, closing his eyes and thinking of Gwen in his arms. She didn’t look especially petite when she was standing in front of him, but in his arms, she seemed a little small but still pleasantly curvy. He’d hardly had a chance to feel exactly what it would be like to hold Gwen properly, but he had felt the curve of her hip in his palm and that was something. She had made little noises when he kissed her and that was something.
He smiled to himself and tapped his mouth with one finger. She would come over and then…
And then she would see his house that had nearly nothing in it. It looked like the house of a serial killer.
“Are you quite alright, sir?” Arthur asked.
Sam’s eyes snapped open. Arthur was standing by like usual, ramrod straight, his hands clasped behind him. His black suit was impeccably tailored and flawless.
“Yes, um…” Sam coughed into his hand and tried to sound casual when he said, “There will be company tonight. Drinks. You should get out one of the good bottles, please, Arthur. Um… The um…” He had learned something about wine a while ago because Gabriel had liked wine.
“I’ll find something appropriate, sir,” Arthur said. But he remained standing there and gave Sam a look that he would have called mischievous except that Arthur was never mischievous. “Is there any chance the company in question is Miss Felici?”
“Ah…” Sam nodded, scratching his head. “Yeah. I managed to open my mouth once or twice. I think I ended up talking more than she did.”
“My word.” Arthur clutched at his heart. “Are you certain you are not still under some form of enchantment?”
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