I’ve seen her when something goes wrong or doesn’t end up working out the way she expected it to. Instead of getting angry or trotting out the whole- why me attitude, she chalks it up to experience and figures out a different path to take.
But tonight is definitely for wallowing and that’s only emphasized when Mia flags down the waitress so she can order another bottle of beer, even though she hasn’t finished the one she’s currently working on.
“So what’s going on with Golden Delicious?”
Narrowing my eyes, I give her a look. God bless but she knows how much I hate it when she calls him that. “Nothing.”
We’re friendly. But it’s not the same. Not nearly the same. And that knowledge is like a knife slicing painfully through my beating heart.
Patience, I remind myself. I just need to have patience.
“So what are you going to do about it?” I almost wince at the steely note that enters her voice. Mia may be taking time to mope about the Carter situation, but apparently my time has run out.
Not really wanting to delve headfirst into this conversation, I sigh, stalling for time. Instead of taking the hint and moving on, she continues waiting for an answer.
Did I mention that Mia can be annoyingly persistent when she wants to be?
It’s a total character flaw in this kind of situation.
Finally I say, “What can I really do? We’re just in this…” hell, I don’t even know what kind of place we’re in right now, “it’s just weird. Things aren’t totally back to normal between us, but at least he’s talking to me.”
And that means just about everything.
At this point, I’ll take whatever he’s willing to give. I’m like a damn dog begging for scraps. And I’m not ashamed to admit it either. Because I fucked up. I put him and his family through hell. I’m lucky he’s even willing to give me the time of day.
“Does he know you spoke with his parents?”
Feeling restless, I shrug my shoulders. “We haven’t talked about it.”
Can anyone really blame me for not wanting to bring up the whole photo scandal situation yet again?
Nope. I think we’re both just trying to move quietly past it. Which is difficult because whenever we’re together, it’s like a two ton elephant sitting between us.
Nearly impossible to avoid.
And really, what was I supposed to say?
Hey, just a little FYI- even though I fucked up royally, I’m now trying to clean up a tiny little piece of it…
Right.
Big fucking deal.
It does nothing to change the fact that there’s a naked picture of Sam floating around out there. Hell, I passed by a girl at the library the other day who was using it as a screen saver on her computer…
So yeah, that whole situation isn’t going away anytime soon.
“And I have no idea if his parents mentioned it to him either.” He hasn’t said a word about it and I’m fine with that. The sooner I can forget about the cringe worthy conversation I had with the Harpers, the better off I’ll be.
The memory of it flashes through my head in painful Technicolor bursts. Kind of like when you’re watching a horror flick through fingers that are clapped tightly over your eyes. Every once in a while you can’t help but take a quick peek, catching some gruesome glimpse. Unfortunately that one stolen glance is enough to be burned into your brain forever.
For instance, Senator Harper glaring at me from across the highly polished kitchen table through frigid brown eyes. Brows drawn sharply together. Mouth curved into a deeply carved frown. Hands clenched tightly together in front of him.
And then he just sat there staring at me. As if he couldn’t quite figure out why I would do something so completely stupid. By the disgruntled look that continued to mar his face, he wasn’t able to figure it out either.
Or having to face Sam’s mother… you know, the woman who gave birth to him. The woman who stepped into the surrogate mom shoes during my formative years. I can only speculate that she had just as difficult of a time understanding why I would feel the need to photograph her son.
Naked.
In bed.
Without his permission before rather stupidly allowing it to be stolen.
I have absolutely no idea how I’m ever going to face the pair of them again. I couldn’t have felt more like a perverted deviant if I tried. Christ… even now my cheeks are flaring with heat.
Would you like to take a guess as to who won’t be engaging in sexy picture time ever again?
Yep, that’s right, it’s me.
This experience has been way too psychologically damaging to ever do that again.
Mia polishes off her first bottle of beer before starting in on the second. Her alcohol consumption is turning out to be more of a sprint rather than a marathon. “So, you’re just going to sit back and do absolutely nothing about this?”
I give her a blank look because umm, yeah… that’s exactly what I was planning to do. For the time being, I’m going to lay low and just ride this one out. What else does she expect me to do? I mean, haven’t I singlehandedly caused enough damage to my friendship with Sam?
I’m kind of thinking that I have.
Looking frustrated by my lack of response, Mia continues doling out unsolicited advice. Which, quite frankly, I could do without. Alcohol unfortunately brings out the unwanted therapist in Mia.
“Well, for starters, you could try pulling on your big girl panties and telling him how you really feel.” When I remain stubbornly silent, she steam rolls on, “Look, I can see just how much this whole thing is tearing you apart. And yeah, I totally get that you made a mistake. But it’s not the end of the freaking world, Violet. If you want Sam, then you need to be honest with him about your feelings. Being friends is a distant second to what you really want with him. And if it doesn’t work out, then at least you tried, you went after what you wanted. You can’t have regrets if you did everything you possibly could to make it happen.”
As her words roll around within my head like marbles, I hoist the beer bottle to my lips before taking a swig. She has no idea just how much I want to follow her advice. It’s softly that I finally admit, “I’m the one who told him that we were better off as friends.”
Shaking her head, she huffs out a great big sigh before taking another pull from her bottle. Bottle number two is going just as fast as bottle number one. “Of course you did. That sounds exactly like something you would do.”
My shoulders tense and hunch as a small frown tugs at the corners of my lips. “What does that mean?”
Sucking in a deep breath, her serious green eyes impale mine. “It means that not being honest with Sam about the kind of relationship you really want is just you trying to play it safe. It’s you being afraid to tell him that you want more than friendship even though you fucked stuff up between you.”
My jaw goes slack as I continue staring at her. When I’m finally able to wrap my lips around the words, they sound all low and thick. Scraped raw. “What are you talking about? I have been honest with him. I just- I just…”
Doesn’t she get that I can’t live without Sam? That having him as a friend is better than not having him in my life at all?
Eyes filling with compassion, she leans across the table. “Vi, honey, Sam didn’t break up with you after the picture fiasco. You’re the one who told him that you were better off as friends. You’re the one who put the kibosh on your relationship. Not him.”
No… that’s not the way it happened.
Sam was really angry with me. And who can blame him? His privacy had been totally invaded. Christ… I hate myself for what this has done to him. Hate that I’m the one who caused him any kind of pain or embarrassment. At this point, I’m not even sure if I deserve his friendship, much less his love.
“I didn’t want to lose him as a friend,” I whisper harshly, “he was barely talking to me. It was only a matter of time before he ended things.” Inhaling in a ragged breath, I adm
it, “Okay, so maybe I beat him to the punch by downgrading our relationship. But it was going to happen regardless. I had to salvage what I could before I totally lost him.”
“Listen,” her voice continues to soften, “I understand why you did it, but you didn’t give him any time to deal with the fallout of what happened. You just cut things off. You forced everything back to the way it was.” Her eyes spear mine. “The point I’m trying to make here is that you’re the one who called it quits, not him.”
“But he would have,” I insist. “I violated his trust by snapping that picture and keeping it on my phone.”
“You don’t know that for sure, Vi. You got scared and dumped him before he could dump you.”
Her words have my throat closing up, making it painful to swallow down the thick lump of emotion sitting right in the middle of it. No, I guess I don’t know for sure what would have happened. But still… I could see where it was heading.
The little voice inside my head reminds me that we’re nowhere near the friends we used to be. That our relationship hasn’t completely shifted back to the easy friendship we once took for granted. And that’s a bitter pill to swallow. When it comes right down to it, Sam is my everything. That week or so without him showed me just how dependent I am on him.
On his friendship.
“Well, speak of the devil… or maybe I should say devils.”
Feeling the fine hair rise at the nape of my neck, I slowly swivel in my seat until my eyes are colliding with bright blue ones. The breath catches at the back of my throat as our gazes lock and hold. Barely do I notice that Sam is flanked by both Dylan and Liam. The three of them together, with their wide shoulders, broad chests, muscular bodies, and just general gorgeousness, turn female heads.
“Looks like we’re going to have company,” Mia murmurs about five seconds before they arrive at our table.
Liam treats us to a broad smile before asking, “Mind if we join you?”
Even though Liam’s question is directed at me, I find myself unable to rip my eyes away from Sam. Thankfully jumping in, Mia waves her hand towards our table with its two extra chairs. Needing another seat, Liam charms a table full of girls next to us and voila, we have another chair.
As Sam slides into the seat next to me, everything within my body tightens. A low hum of energy ignites within my blood. I hate it. Hate that I’m so completely aware of him. Of his sheer masculine presence. He doesn’t need to do anything and already I’m responding to him. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t ignore him. As his knee knocks softly into mine under the table, a delicate little shiver shimmies its way up the length of me.
Closing the distance between us, his deep blue eyes ensnare mine. “How’s it going, Vi?”
Trying to play it cool, I give him just a bit of a nod. The last thing I need is for him to see just how affected I am. Because- yes, yes, yes, the man completely affects me in the worst way possible. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Sam Harper right now.
Doing the only thing I can, I try salvaging just a tiny shred of my pride by not allowing him to see just what a pathetic mess I still am.
“Everything’s good.”
I’m such a liar. It’s so far from good, it’s not even funny.
A few short months ago, I would have never lied to Sam. I wouldn’t have bothered shielding my true feelings from him. But that’s exactly what I’m forcing myself to do now. Because it’s for the best.
Taking my words at face value, he nods before flagging down a waitress. All three guys order beer. I can’t help but notice that it’s the very same dark haired girl who was flirting with Sam right before we got together. I actually have to grit my teeth at the way her eyes continuously stray to him as she flutters around the table.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to growl before telling her to get lost but of course I don’t do that. I have zero claims on Sam. He’s free to be with whoever he wants. Unable to watch the way she flirts with him, I drop my eyes to the bottle in front of me.
I have to remind myself over and over again that Sam and I are just friends.
Nothing more.
We are not together.
We are not getting back together.
That thought is as painful as a gut shot. And if I’m not mistaken, people actually die from gut shots. Which isn’t surprising, because that’s exactly how I feel. Like I’m dying a slow painful death all the while bleeding out.
Trying to regroup, I straighten my shoulders before blowing out a long slow breath. If the ultimate goal here is to keep Sam in my life, then I really need to pull my head out of my damn ass and start acting like his friend instead of some hurt lover.
Ignoring the pain, I hoist a smile instead, doing my best to pretend that the last month never happened. I never fell head over heels for him, we never made sweet love to one another, he never became my everything.
None of it ever occurred.
Forcing myself to loosen up, I focus on the silly banter of the group around us.
“So whose bright idea was it for you guys to drop your drawers and have a little naked time out on the field?”
Liam smirks before raising a brow in Mia’s direction. “See something you like, sweetheart?”
If Liam thinks he’s going to embarrass Mia, he’s got another thing coming. She gives him a sly grin before full out leering in his direction, “Yeah, I saw a whole lot of somethings I liked.”
Liam’s lips tilt upwards as the rest of the guys laugh before they all start talking about the newest picture to be circulating at Barnett. If the women on campus were merely drooling over Sam’s photo, they’re losing their freaking minds at seeing fifteen of the hottest guys on the football team in the buff.
Even if the view is only from the backside.
They’ll happily take it.
The next thirty minutes slide by quickly until the bar is completely packed. Several other football players have now joined our group. They’ve pulled up chairs or are standing around the table laughing and talking, swigging beer from their bottles.
Needless to say, where there are college athletes, there are the inevitable groupies who are looking for a little hook up action at the end of the night. They’ve found laps to hang out on in their tiny little skirts that barely cover their asses.
Thankfully none of them have planted themselves on Sam.
I don’t think I could take that right now. The facade I have going feels incredibly fragile. Sitting next to Sam, pretending everything is normal, is way more difficult than I imagined it would be. Even though I’m having a good time, I’m unbearably aware of Sam’s constant presence besides me. The way his knee bumps into mine. The little touches here and there. I’m wound so freaking tight right now, I feel like I could literally explode from the intense pressure building within me.
It’s only when his fingers slip gently over mine and he starts pulling me out of my seat, does my attention snap back to him, the guy I’ve been so desperately trying to ignore for the last forty-five minutes.
As my startled eyes catch his, he murmurs, “Come on, let’s dance.”
Yeah… that doesn’t really sound like a good idea.
In fact, it sounds more like imminent disaster waiting to happen.
One touch and I will literally shatter. I’ve been trying so hard to keep everything locked up tight inside. There’s just no way I can continue doing it for much longer.
But he doesn’t give me a choice in the matter. Before I can refuse, he has my hand secured tightly within his larger one and is towing me out onto the crowded dance floor where a slow ballad-like song has just started to play.
Already my fingers are tingling from his touch. And then it goes from bad to worse as he wraps those big muscular arms around me, tugging me close until I’m all but tucked against the wall of his rock solid chest.
Because I know exactly what will happen if I allow myself to melt into him, I keep my body rigid within the circle of his arms. Being with h
im like this, the sheer intimacy of it, very nearly kills me.
His lips hover near my ear.
Warm breath feathering over my flesh.
“Relax, Vi. It’s just me. This is just us.”
As he murmurs the words, I feel unbidden moisture gather in my eyes. Quickly I blink it away.
Yes. It’s just him. And this is just us.
But I don’t feel like we’ve been us for a while. Not since I ruined everything. Doesn’t he understand that? Can’t he feel how different everything is between us? How stiff and uncomfortable we are now?
“Just relax and let me hold you.”
Screw it.
The truth of the matter is that I’m going to hurt no matter what. I might as well enjoy the feel of his arms around me while I can.
It’s as if those thoughts give my body permission to finally loosen within the warm circle of his embrace as we continue rocking steadily back and forth. Just being surrounded by his scent has my eyes nearly crossing. It’s some woodsy cologne as well as something that is uniquely Sam’s. God, but I love that smell. I’m one massive breath away from inhaling him.
But I force myself not to, because I know damn well that it will only make everything throb and ache even more than it already does.
My eyelids feather closed as I simply enjoy the feel of Sam’s arms. I try not to think about all the times they were wrapped around me while we were in bed together, but I can’t stop those errand thoughts from tumbling their way through my head. Every single memory comes rushing back at me until I’m almost dizzy with the sheer number of them.
I’ve missed this so much.
Missed him.
And being this close to Sam again has it all slamming back into me.
Unable to help myself, I drag in a great big breath of him. It feels like a massive brain rush. Or heart rush. Or some kind of rush as it careens wildly through my system.
Yeah… that last inhale was a mistake.
One I’ll end up regretting in the not so distant future. Although it’s impossible to regret anything when I’m wrapped up in his arms like this. His body pressed deliciously close to mine. All his hard lines perfectly aligned with my softer ones.
Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) Page 29