When I opened my eyes, Sam’s were now closed. I ogled his flawless features, admired his kind beauty. I wondered what he might be thinking. Had the ocean served as a baptism for his worries too? Was his brain muddled with unsettling thoughts about life and what came next? Or was he worried about me, as always, selflessly tangled in my troubles as if they were his own.
I hated to disturb his quiet contemplation, but I couldn’t bear the notion that he might have something on his mind that I’d been too blind to see. “I’m good, Sam. Because of you, I’m good. But what about you? You sure you’re all right?”
“Me?” His eyes flew open, his hands dropping to the sand. “I’m perfectly fine. I’m also homeless, but we’re about to fix that, so, yeah, all’s good in the hood.”
I had no choice but to believe him. No reason not to. Pressing further would only irritate him and I didn’t feel much like dealing with grumpy Sam for the rest of the afternoon. I pursed my lips while leaning forward in search of his hands. Lacing our sandy fingers together atop the cold, damp grains, I latched on and squeezed tight. “Are you sure you’re ready to donate a kidney? It’s a lot to ask of someone who’s not . . .” I looked away, unable to finish my sentence because it wasn’t true. Sam was more my family than anyone else ever could be. We didn’t need blood to prove our bond. Our connection, our loyalty, ran thicker and more potent than shared DNA.
“Don’t even go there,” he warned. “Ella’s like a second mother to me. You’re like . . . Do you even know what you mean to me? I fucking love you, London.”
“And I love you just as much.” I didn’t hesitate. It was truer than true. We didn’t throw those three words around as if they meant nothing; we didn’t use them often, either. The kind of love we had for each other was simply understood. Hearing him tell me that and then repeating it back to him, it was a moment that would be forever branded on my heart.
As quickly as the memory was created, however, Sam brought me back to reality with a throaty chuckle. “Good. Now, that that’s settled, let’s go find me my dream home.” His nod was sharp but then he did something that took my breath away even more so than hearing his I love you.
Sand-dusted hands cradled both sides of my face. He pulled me toward him and gently kissed the top of my head. His lips lingered, his deep intake of breath telling me he was savoring our moment. The entire exchange was extremely intimate, but not at all strange. He’d shown his affection in this manner before. But this gesture had always been reserved for special times or solemn circumstances. I guess it was appropriate because I hadn’t felt this close to him in a long time. It wasn’t every day someone offered to save your mother’s life by risking their own. I couldn’t imagine any other scenario that would unite us the way this would. I also couldn’t envision a night more perfect than this.
“Sam?” I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Mmm hmm?” he hummed with his hand at the base of my back.
“Let’s stay a few minutes longer. The realtor can wait.”
“Yeah, fuck the realtor. I didn’t like her all that much anyway.”
“NOT FOR NOTHING,” Sam leaned over to whisper in my ear. “But this realtor is the shit.”
I nodded, in full agreement. Patricia was, indeed, the shit. Not only had she gone above and beyond in finding Sam exactly what he was looking for, but she also made it damn near impossible for him to make a decision.
“This seller is highly motivated and even willing to leave the majority of the furniture because they’re relocating across the country. I know it’s priced a little above your budget, but with the right offer, I think they’d be negotiable.” Patricia meandered about the spacious high-ranch home as she spoke.
The living area had high ceilings that boasted exposed barn-wood beams. There was a circular stained-glass window at the landing of the staircase that led to three bedrooms, an expansive en suite, and an adorable guest bathroom. I even pictured having my own drawer of toiletries in the vanity for when I crashed overnight. It had a feminine touch that Sam would either want to revamp or keep to appeal to the multitude of lady friends he’d be entertaining once his dry spell was over.
I oohed and aahed throughout every room, each one nicer than the last and staged with impeccable taste. The house had been built almost a century ago, but the current owner had refurbished many of the vintage features, adding modern touches that created a unique and inviting charm throughout the home.
After the full tour, we finally settled in the newly remodeled kitchen. We sat at a large island topped with a gleaming slab of marbleized quartz. I couldn’t help but slide my hands across it in awe.
“God, this is nice,” I murmured. The entire house was gorgeous. A dream. Everything I would have wanted had I been the one shopping for my forever home. Maybe one day.
“I know, right?” Sam’s eyes darted around the room, smiling as he took in the antique white cabinets, the stainless steel oven hood, and white subway tile backsplash. It was crisp, clean, and timeless, to quote Patricia, and Sam was clearly in heaven.
“I love everything about this one, but it is a lot of house for one person.” He turned serious while still unable to stop his wandering eyes.
Patricia countered with her realtor rehearsed repertoire. “Yes, but in this market, this house, at this price is a total steal and a great investment for your future. The backyard, the location, the school district . . . Do you plan on having a family one day?” Patricia looked at Sam and then at me, waiting for one of us to respond.
When I realized what she was insinuating, I quickly chimed in. “Oh, we’re not . . . I’m not his—”
“How negotiable is negotiable?” Sam cut me off before I could make myself heard, and at the same time, my phone began to ring. I reached inside my purse and saw it was Bryce calling.
“Be right back,” I whispered, excusing myself. Sam and Patricia were already talking numbers. Since that was none of my business, I didn’t feel bad slipping outside to take the call.
“Hey, you,” I answered with a smile that must’ve been audible even through the phone. Spending time with Sam had put me in a good mood, and seeing Bryce’s name light up the screen of my phone only added to it.
“Hi, beautiful. How’s it going?” His tone was equally animated, cheerful. I’d long forgotten how the beginning of a relationship was so fun and exciting. The littlest things brought about butterflies and giddy feelings.
“Really good, actually.” I curled the bottom of my ponytail as I paced the front porch of Sam’s potential home. “I think he found the one.”
“Oh.” There was a dip in his voice. “You guys are still at it?”
“Yeah.” I pulled the phone from my ear to check the time. I knew it was after seven because the sun had started its orange-hued descent in the darkening sky but it seemed only an hour ago that Sam and I had our heart-to-heart on the beach. “Oh, crap. I didn’t realize it was this late. After the beach we headed straight out to the first house. The realtor wound up adding two more to Sam’s list at the last minute, so we’ve been out a little longer than expected.”
“You guys were at the beach today? I thought you had work earlier?”
“Oh, no, not all day. I’m talking about after work. I headed there before the appointments to clear my head. Sam found me in the middle of a very unattractive pity party.” I giggled away my embarrassment. Bryce knew all too well what I was going through with my mom but I didn’t want him to think he’d gotten himself involved with a basket case.
“Pity party? London, is everything okay?”
I shook my head as if he could see me brushing off his concern. “Yes, yes. Everything’s fine. I was just feeling a little . . . overwhelmed. Scared about Mom, annoyed with Memphis.” I let out a long sigh, releasing the stress. I didn’t want it coming back again. In fact, it was probably better if I changed the subject. “You know what, never mind that. I’m all better now. Sam cheered me up and now I’m talking to you. I’m really excite
d about tomorrow night, by the way.”
There was a long pause of silence. I wondered if the call had been lost.
“Bryce? You there?”
“I’m here.” He huffed.
“We’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then, what’s the matter? Everything okay with you?”
Another long pause. Another breathy huff. “London, I’m sure you’re very happy to have Sam as a sounding board, that your best friend is back and you have his shoulder to cry on when something’s got you down.”
Bryce stopped talking and I wondered when the but was coming. Not that there should’ve been a but. His synopsis was accurate. Sam was all those things. So what was he getting at? “Okayyyy,” I sang. “So, why do you sound . . . annoyed?” Was that it? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but his tone was laced with something odd.
“I’m not annoyed, beautiful. I’m just . . . How do I say this without sounding like an immature prick? I’m glad you have Sam but . . . you have me now, too.”
Oh! So that’s what this is about? Hunter and Sam had gotten off to a rocky start when we first started dating, too. It would take some getting used to, but eventually Bryce would understand the dynamic between Sam and me and it would be obvious he had nothing to worry about. In the meantime, if I had to feed his ego, why not? He’d already done so much for me.
“Bryce.” I sweetened my intonation. His name left my lips with an appreciative smile, my heart fluttering in my chest at his candor. “I know I can count on you and that makes me the luckiest girl in the world. But don’t overthink this, okay? Sam and I had plans and when I didn’t answer my phone he just assumed I was at the beach. It’s my spot, but it’s kind of our spot, too.” I hated the way that sounded. I wasn’t helping matters by pointing out that Sam and I shared so much of a past. Bryce clearly needed reassurance about the two of us, not a recap of the life and times of Sam and London. “What I meant was, he was just there. If you’d been there, you would have been my shoulder to cry on. You’ve been amazing. I don’t know how I’d get through this scary time if I didn’t have you in my life right now.”
“But he made you feel better. You should have called me. You sounded fine in your texts and now I feel like a jerk for not knowing you needed someone to talk to.”
“You have no reason to!” I laughed with my hand over my chest. “You were at work and I didn’t want to burden you with the same old nonsense. Ella Monroe is not your only patient and my unexpected crying jags are not nearly as important as the lives you save every day. Please, Bryce, don’t be upset about this. I’m fine, we’re fine. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”
I heard him clear his throat and could picture him raking his fingers through his hair. It was almost eight and he’d been at the hospital all day. I imagined he was tired and frustrated from putting in so many hours. It was my turn to show he could count on me to see him through the not-so-good days, too.
“Hey, I have an idea.” It was a bold whisper.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
I peered through one of the rectangular glass panes of the front door to check on Sam. When I saw he was still chatting it up with Patricia, I bit my lower lip and continued. “Tomorrow night, before the carnival, come to my place first. I give the absolute best massage. I can knead away that stress and . . . who knows . . . maybe we can have a little fun before the fun, if you catch my drift.” Just the thought of what that massage would lead to had me aching for him.
My suggestion garnered a throaty chuckle from Bryce, who swallowed loud enough for me to hear. “Will this massage include a happy ending?”
Laughter burst through my chest, causing me to snort. I quickly composed myself and added a sultry timbre to my voice. “If that’s what the doctor orders, the doctor shall receive.”
“You’re making me hard, London. I have a ninety-two-year-old patient to see in three minutes and I won’t be able to walk out into the hall until this goes away.”
“Three minutes, huh? Are you in your office?”
“Yes, why?”
I looked around the quiet, tree-lined street to make sure I was alone. When I could see the only other form of life was a man and his dog in the very far off distance, I cupped my mouth over the phone receiver and said, “Unzip your pants and stroke your cock. Pretend it’s my mouth so you can come fast and hard.”
“Fuck! London,” he growled.
I stifled a giggle. This was fun—and hot. But as aroused as I was from the thought of Bryce pleasuring himself to the sound of my voice alone, I was standing outside where my best friend and his realtor could hear my dirty mouth at any minute.
Forgoing the risk, I remained stoic and bit my lip while I continued to coax Bryce to climax over the next few minutes.
“Just like that, baby. You taste so good. Come for me, now. I want to—”
“Holy . . . shit!” he whisper-shouted. His breaths were sharp gasps and raspy grunts.
Knowing I did that to him was exhilarating. And a little bit of a power trip. My cheeks were hot to the touch and my own heart raced beneath my blouse. Pleased with myself, I smiled a smile that could rival the Cheshire cat himself, only to spin around and find Sam watching me from behind the door.
Our eyes met and I immediately felt as if I’d been caught with my pants down. Sam must have noticed the flush to my complexion, the mischief in my grin. Not knowing why I couldn’t bring myself to look away, I kept my gaze locked on his as I spoke into the phone. “You okay over there?”
“Mmmm,” Bryce groaned. “More than okay.”
I closed my eyes to hide my emotions from my best friend. I had to at least try to mask the embarrassment that accompanied the feeling of being observed during such a private, intimate moment. “I’ll let you get to that patient now.”
“Good idea.” He chuckled. “And London?”
I unsealed my lids and came face to face with Sam again. “Yeah?”
“Have fun with your friend, but tomorrow night you’re all mine. Especially that sweet pussy of yours.”
My breath hitched and a gasp escaped my opened mouth.
With that, Bryce hung up and Sam opened the door.
“Bryce?” he asked as he walked closer.
I nodded.
“Everything good?”
I nodded again.
He tilted his head and appraised me. Big green eyes darkened by even bigger pupils scanned every inch of my face. His lips kinked up at the corners before he peered down at his feet. Somehow he knew the erotic nature of my conversation with Bryce. Sam could read me better than anyone. Maybe even better than Hunter and my mother.
I chose that moment to clear my throat. I had to redirect all of this uncomfortable attention off of me and onto him. “So, did you decide on anything?”
He arched a brow and rocked back and forth on his heels. After another silent moment of roving eyes and thoughts so loud I could practically hear them screaming from his brain, his lids fluttered and his face beamed. “You’re standing on the front porch of my very first home.”
“Congratulations!” I launched into his arms and threw mine around him, tight. “This is so exciting, Sam! I’m so happy for you!”
Patricia approached from behind our celebratory huddle, turning off the last of the lights and joining us outside. “The seller accepted his offer on the spot. Fast and painless. Quickest deal I’ve made all month.”
Sam released me from his hold and both of us stood to face Patricia. I hadn’t realized we were holding hands until her eyes traveled downward to where our fingers laced together.
A faint smile crept across her hot pink lips as she turned her focus to Sam. “I’ll get the contracts drawn up and give you a call in the morning?”
“Sounds good. Thank you again, Patricia.”
She nodded her thanks and bid us both good night. By the time she made it down the steps and to the driver’s side of her sleek
Mercedes Benz, Sam’s arm was draped around my shoulders. “I have a crazy idea,” he said into my ear.
“Let me guess—ice cream sundaes and Irish car bombs?” That had been the way we celebrated his college acceptance letter, my engagement to Hunter, his first promotion, and so many other exciting milestones.
I started to walk away, tightening my grip on my purse strap. But to my surprise, Sam pulled me by the wrist and spun me so we were face to face. He shook his head, rejecting our time-honored tradition. “No. Even crazier.”
“What, then?”
His eyes danced with excitement as his thumb caressed the tiny round bone protruding from my wrist. He blinked, then fixed his attention on me again before suggesting the absolute craziest thing I ever heard. “I want you to move in with me.”
“YOU’RE JOKING, RIGHT?” He had to be out of his mind.
“Not even close.” His confident response momentarily smothered my disbelief. But I knew he hadn’t thought this through.
“Sam.” I pulled out of his grasp and shook my head. “You’re excited and I’m sure it just seemed like the right thing to say because I’m standing here, but you and I both know that moving in together is not going to happen.”
“Yeah? Why not? You’re my best friend. We’re both single and we’re both living at home with our mothers like losers. If that’s not perfect timing, I don’t know what it is. It’s almost like we’re meant to be . . . roommates.”
“Perfect timing?” Okay, now he was just plain delusional. I started to pace, utterly confused. “Sam, if you haven’t noticed, the reason my divorced ass is shacking up with my mother is because I’m flat broke and she’s dy . . . she’s sick. She needs me. I wouldn’t leave her now even if I wanted to.”
His expression turned somber as his jaw ticked beneath his five o’clock shadow. “Do you want to? I mean, if it weren’t about Ella, would it be something you’d consider?”
“Sam.”
“Stop saying my name over and over!” His hands flew about before grabbing chunks of hair at the top of his head.
Every Breath You Take (The Every Breath Duet Book 1) Page 15