I laugh and open the bag for him to throw his things in. Sam drops my hand and slips his arm casually around my waist and I suppress my sigh. I wonder if this is how it will be now - if I get to be in his arms whenever I want.
Which is all the damn time.
****
We're alone in the elevator when he backs me into the corner. "You know what to say if you're ever uncomfortable, right?" he asks softly.
I nod. I know our safeword. But my discomfort has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with my unquenched desire. Sam brushes my hair over my shoulder, bends, and starts kissing my neck.
Oh, my.
I turn my head to give him better access and he smiles against my skin. "You smell different," he observes, nuzzling my hair.
"Huh?"
"You usually smell like honey and vanilla," he murmurs as he plants small kisses along my jaw.
"You know what I smell like?" I ask, incredulous. Honey and vanilla is the scent of my conditioner at home. Though I don't know why I'm so surprised, God knows I know what he smells like. And he smells real good.
Sam nods and I feel rather than see it.
"I, uh, used the hotel's conditioner," I explain, and he doesn't respond he just starts nibbling on my ear.
Holy hell, that's hot.
Ding.
The doors open and Sam steps away, but not far, and I'm once again left reeling as three men, presumably other spring breakers, enter the elevator and shamelessly check me out. I swallow nervously as Sam's arm pulls me possessively to his side and he glares at them. And I'm grateful.
"Just lookin' bro, no harm," one of them drawls, hands up, palm forward in a show of pacifism.
"Look somewhere else," Sam replies calmly.
The stranger laughs. "No need to go all territorial, dude. If you don't want other guys checkin' out your girl, you should probably get a less hot girlfriend and you definitely shouldn't have brought her to Miami for spring break," he slurs. How is he drunk already? It's barely one in the afternoon.
Sam maneuvers subtly so that I'm pushed behind him back into the corner of the elevator. "And if you don't want to get your ass kicked, you should probably look. Somewhere. Else," he says softly and yet somehow completely menacingly.
The elevator dings once again to indicate we've reached the lobby, and Sam, without breaking his glare at the stranger, guides me out of the doors and starts pulling me through the lobby toward the entrance to the pool area. He's still completely tense.
"Sam, it's fine," I murmur, and he finally glances at me, his glare softening. His gait slows so he's beside me and not pulling me after him anymore. He releases my hand and slings his arm around my shoulders, kissing my hair sweetly.
"He was right, you know. It would be easier to get guys to stop looking at you if you weren't so fucking hot," he mutters.
I laugh. I love that he thinks of me that way when for so long I was sure he wasn't even attracted to me. "But then you might not want me," I reply, trying on his trademark smirk.
"Don't be ridiculous."
****
We join the others by the pool, and though it's not really that strange for Sam to have an arm around me in a friendly sort of way, Carl still notices and shoots me her own subtle smirk. I roll my eyes dismissively. Tuck is sitting behind her on a lounge chair, rubbing sunblock on her shoulders.
"Hmm, you two showing up together, how interesting," Dave drawls.
"Quiet, Dave," Sam mutters and gestures for me to take the lounge chair next to Carl before settling on the one next to mine.
Lily is apparently asleep next to Tuck and Carl's chair and Tina and Andrew are in the pool.
"Hey Rory," she calls from the water, and I give her a small wave.
"Damn it, Tuck, grow up!" Carl admonishes when Tuck's hands wander to the sides of her breasts.
"Hey, I don't want these babies to burn," he replies.
"What do you care? It's not like you'll be touching them anyway if you keep acting like such a jerk," Carl spits and Tuck falls back on the lounger dramatically in aggravation.
"Too much information, you two. Get your shit together," Sam murmurs.
"Like you two did?" Dave teases, gesturing to Sam and me. I blush bright red. "Interesting that the last time I saw either of you, you were stumbling into a cab together and now you show up here together. It makes me wonder-"
"Don't get too excited, Dave, Cap was alone in his hotel room this morning, so I'm pretty sure the only place he touched Pine was in his dreams," Tuck informs the group. I throw my arm over my face as if I can hide from the idiots that are Sam's friends.
"You two are fucking morons," Sam mutters, blowing them both off.
"Seriously," Carl agrees. "Do you want some tanning oil, Rory?"
I remove my arm from my eyes and shake my head. "No thanks, it's hot, anyone wanna go down to the ocean?" I ask. I've always preferred the ocean to a swimming pool. Something about the salt water and the infinite qualities of the sea that make me feel like my issues aren't as important as they seem. Like I'm just one small dot in an enormous world.
"I'm in," Sam murmurs, and I bite my lip to stifle my grin.
I tug my tank top over my head and stand to shimmy out of my shorts. I picture Sam kissing my neck in the elevator to distract me from my nerves at our friends seeing me in a bikini, though the truth is Carl and Lily are wearing barely more than a few scraps of material attached by thin strings, so I don't feel too self-conscious. I glance down and see that Sam has removed his shirt but seems to be making no move to join me.
"You comin'?" I ask.
"Yeah, Rory. You go ahead, I'll be right behind you," he murmurs. I furrow my brow in confusion but grab my towel and start walking the pool deck anyway.
When I glance back, Sam is still seated, and despite the fact that he now has his sunglasses on, I'm fully aware that he's staring at me walking away.
Did he just have me go ahead so he can stare at my ass?
Is it normal that I'm flattered instead of outraged?
I roll my eyes and continue on to the boardwalk that connects the resort to the beach and wait on Sam there, where our friends can't see us.
"Boo!" I shout when he reaches the boardwalk and he jumps in surprise, but recovers quickly and slides his arms around my waist to pull me to him. He kisses me hard and fast before pulling away to lead me down the steps to the beach.
"You're a sneaky little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs.
I laugh. "Me? I'm not the one who told you to walk ahead of me so I could stare at your ass," I tease, and Sam smirks.
"I didn't realize I was quite so obvious, Ror. I'll try and be more subtle next time."
"Next time... just ask," I reply as seductively as I can, completely out of character, and then drop my towel in the sand and race toward the waves. But Sam is faster than me and he catches me before I reach the surf. I giggle as he hugs me. His hands wander up and down my back, and vaguely I think he's going to feel my backside. I'm also quite certain I have no intention of stopping him, but instead his hands land on the back of my thighs, and he suddenly lifts me and throws me over his shoulder.
I yelp and swat at his behind, but he just chuckles and walks languidly into the water. Oh, damn, he's going to toss me into the water. I'm a get-used-to-it-gradually kind of girl, definitely not one to jump-right-in-and-take-the-shock-all-at-once, but I do want to be a good sport, especially since Sam seems in a better mood since that elevator stranger pissed him off.
I brace myself for the throw, but instead, Sam slides me, torturously slowly, down the front of his body. And I feel every inch of it against mine.
Holy shit.
I don't even register the frigid water, although we're waist deep. I feel anything but cold.
"Hi," Sam says softly, gazing down at me.
"Hi," I reply shyly. Why am I suddenly shy with him when I was teasing him about looking at my ass just a few minutes ago?
He takes my hand and
leads me deeper into the water until it's up to my chest, and his waist. His hands roam over my hips, my back, my stomach, lingering on the half inch of scar that peeks out over my swimsuit bottoms. I shiver, and it has nothing to do with the cold. I feel my breathing pick up, and I just stand there, looking up at him through my lashes, waiting. For what, I haven't a clue. I don't know what I expect him to do here.
Sam bends, slowly, and I watch his eyes dart around quickly, presumably to ensure our friends are not in view, and then, finally, his mouth slants over mine. He pulls on my bottom lip and I moan, and then presses his forehead to mine.
"God, Ror, no more of those sexy little sounds. Not in public. You're killing me," he murmurs.
"So let's go back inside," I whisper, and Sam pulls away to look down at me with narrowed eyes, as if he's sizing me up.
"You're trouble, you," he decides, and then suddenly dives under the water and surfaces at least five feet away.
I grumble to myself, but when my eyes catch Tuck and Carl splashing in the shallows, with Tina and Andrew following from the beach, I understand.
"Fine, you win, let's go join them," I call back to Sam and start to make my way to our friends.
"I, uh, need a minute," he replies accusingly, and then nods for me to go ahead.
I laugh, but truthfully, the knowledge that he's attracted to me, that I can affect him, it's a heady feeling.
****
We all hung out in the water for a while. Now we lay on the sand, Tuck and Carl are getting along for now, and he sits behind her with his arms around her middle. Sam lays on my towel and I lay on my back, perpendicular to him, and rest my head on his perfect abs. The slow rise and fall from his breathing is starting to lull me to sleep, and I can't fall asleep on the beach in case I have a nightmare. I sit up.
"Who's hungry?" I ask.
"Ugh, definitely not me. I'm still stuffed from brunch," Carl replies. I guess they all ate before we came down this afternoon.
"Come on, princess, I want food," Tuck argues. I learned that he started calling her "princess" originally to tease her since her family is wealthy, although so is Tuck's and basically all of their friends', but it seems to have evolved into a term of endearment. Though, depending on his tone when he uses it, one can usually tell if they're getting along at the moment or not.
Sam stands. "Come on, let's go get some smoothies," he decides. That actually sounds perfect.
We all get our things together, put our cover ups back on - or in my case just my shorts - then head back to the lounge area by the pool and push a couple of tables and chairs together to accommodate our group. Sam asks me what I want and I tell him to surprise me. Any kind of fruit smoothie will be perfect for me, so he really can't go wrong. As the boys go off to get the drinks, Carl, Tina, Lily and I sit around and talk about them. I can see Carl is dying to ask about Sam and me, but she wouldn't dare in front of anyone else, even if it were only Tina.
Sam brings me a strawberry banana smoothie and I start to gulp it down. It's the first substantial thing I've had all day and it's nearly four in the afternoon. I'd eat a real meal, but we have dinner reservations at nine and if I give into my hunger now I'll spoil my appetite. Tonight the boys and girls are having separate dinners. Spring break bonding and all that. It's weird how so many of us have kind of coupled up - even Marshall and Sarah have been flirting like crazy. I wonder if Luke and Lisa will be next.
Although I'm not sure if Sam and I are actually coupled up or just exploring the "something more" he spoke of.
I'm afraid I'm going to end up hurt, but that was already a foregone conclusion as soon as I started falling for him. At least now I might have some chance at temporary happiness before I suffer the inevitable broken heart.
"So we'll all meet up at the bar after dinner?" Andrew asks.
"Yeah, around eleven or so," Carl confirms.
"How's your smoothie, Ror?" Sam asks quietly.
I nod and smile. It really is good.
"Ha, Ror, do you call her that 'cause that's what she makes you do when you fuck her? Ha! Roar! Get it?" Dave guffaws like the ape that he is, and I take deep breaths and try to pretend that someone did not just reference fucking me.
Ten, nine, eigh-
My internal counting is interrupted when Sam leaps across the table - knocking an empty chair to the ground in the process - grabs Dave by his shirt, drags him from his seat, and shoves him up against the wall behind him. Roughly.
"I told you to show her some fucking respect!" Sam snarls.
"Cap," Tuck says warningly.
"Dude, I was just fucking kidding. She can take a damn joke!" Dave says in defense, obviously frazzled, bordering on frightened.
"Cap, he got it," Tuck tries again to intervene.
Sam's jaw clenches, he bites his lip, and then I see his hand fist, and his arm rear back...
"Sam!" I yelp.
He freezes. His fisted hand opens, then closes, and then falls limply to his side. He takes an audibly deep breath.
"You will watch how you fucking talk about her," he says simply, and somehow - though his voice wasn't raised - the words imply a serious threat. To his friend.
Sam turns and walks away from the pool deck, back toward the hotel lobby. I stand to go after him, but Carl grabs my arm to stop me. I try to pull it away.
"Rory, just give him a few minutes, okay?" she says gently.
"I'm just gonna make sure he's alright," I murmur and try to turn and leave again, but she doesn't yield.
"He's fine. Just let him cool down." Then much more quietly she adds, "Look, Cap has anger issues, he used to get in a lot of fights. Not so much lately, but... if he's angry, just let him cool down."
"But-"
"Rory, I promise he's fine. He just needs to be alone for a bit. He'll come back. Trust me," Tuck assures me. I hesitantly sit back down, frowning deeply.
Just leave him alone? When he's upset?
No, that doesn't feel right.
I stand again, and with Carl's guard down, I'm able to get a distance away. I know she's scowling at me, but no one comes after me, so they can't be too worried about Sam's anger.
I head straight to the elevator, idly aware that I didn't bring my bag or even my shirt. One other person is in the elevator with me, and belatedly I realize he was one of the guys with that asshole stranger that pissed off Sam earlier. He hadn't said much then.
He looks me up and down and I ignore him, pretending not to notice.
"Where's pretty-boy? Your tough-guy boyfriend left you all alone?" he taunts. I try to hide my startle and my anxious swallow. The old Rory would just murmur that he's not my boyfriend, I don't think, and perhaps cower in the corner. But I've had plenty of self-defense classes and I'd have no qualms about kneeing this loser in the balls. He'd never see it coming.
"Fuck off," I growl instead.
"Ooh, we have a live one," he cajoles, "Well, shit. I guess he didn't teach you to watch your fucking mouth when you talk to men."
"No. But he taught me how some men treat girls. And I know how to handle those men. So unless you want to see how a crazy bitch reacts when she's backed into a corner, I suggest you Fuck. Off." I say carefully.
The only boyfriend I've ever had did teach me how some men treat girls. And because of that, I took the classes. Loser's eyebrows shoot up through his forehead. He was just expecting to bully me a little and then walk away. And it's not like he's going to beat on a teenage girl in a public elevator that also has a camera.
Ding.
The elevator arrives at his floor, and with a scowl but without another word he turns and exits the car. I breathe a tremendous sigh of relief when the doors close once again and the lift begins to rise. I hadn't quite realized how anxious I was. But I didn't freak out. I didn't panic. I was strong.
And I know who has helped to make me that way. To give me this confidence. Who helped to offer me comfort when I was upset. And now he's upset, and they all want me to just leave hi
m alone?
Hell no.
I get out on our floor and head straight to Sam's room. I know how it feels to want to be alone, and his hotel room is the only place he can be alone here in Miami.
I knock, and wait.
And knock, and wait.
And knock.
And knock.
And wait.
After five minutes of knocking, I go next door to my own room, grateful that I happen to have the room key in the pocket of my shorts. I open the door that leads to his room. The door on his side is closed, but when I turn the handle, I find that it isn't locked.
I go in. Of course I do.
"Sam?" I say hesitantly.
I look to my right, where the living and kitchen areas are.
Empty.
I take a few steps in the opposite direction, where the door to the bedroom is, and say his name again.
I make my way back in the other direction, and notice the sliding doors that lead to the balcony are open. I step tentatively through them.
Sam is leaning on the rail, pensively looking out at the ocean, his back to me. "Sam," I say timidly, worried I may be intruding after all. He doesn't turn.
"Sorry about that, Ror-y. I just need a few minutes, okay?" he says cautiously.
"Yeah, okay," I murmur. I nearly head back inside to afford Sam his privacy, since he seems to prefer it to my company right now, but turn back after a moment, just needing to say this one quick thing... "But... don't just stop calling me 'Ror' because of some stupid comment Dave made, okay?"
Now Sam turns to me, and instead of retreating, I take another hesitant step toward him. "It pissed me off that he said that about you... That douchebag in the elevator pissed me off too," he mutters.
I nod. "I know. But you do know Dave is just an idiot. That he means no harm, right?" I say gently.
Sam glares at me a moment and then nods slowly, just once. "I almost hit him," he says, so quietly I can only just hear him.
"But you didn't," I remind him.
Sam takes a deep breath. "But I wanted to... I'm no different than him."
"Than who?" I ask, although I already know what he means. Sam glares at me.
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