Getting a good look at his face, the utter shock causes me to lose my balance and fall off the stool, landing flat on my ass.
“Fuck me.” I mutter from the floor, wishing it would swallow me whole right about now.
“Oh my gosh, Chey are you okay?” Concerned, Becka squats down to help.
A hand is in front of me, and without looking up I already know it’s him. Against my better judgment I place my hand in his and allow him to effortless pull me up. I take a deep breath before meeting a pair of emerald green eyes that I could never forget.
“Sam.. what are you doing here?” I ask, barely getting the words out.
This is the last place I would have ever expected to run into him. Home in Redwood, maybe, but not here in Avalon; in my bar.
“I figured Sawyer would have told you. I live here now. Transferred over the summer, but just moved right before school started.”
That must have been what she was trying to tell me the other night.
“I didn’t know.” I respond, realizing he is still holding my hand so I pull it away.
“I tried calling you. Did you know that? Or did you block me on your phone also?” The anger in Sam’s voice snaps me out of my daze and I look around noticing people watching the show.
“Can we please not do this here? I would rather not have an audience.” I snap back.
As if Sam just remembered we are not alone, he shakes off his anger and reaches for my hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I was just caught off guard. Come home with me?”
“What? Sam I don’t think that is a good idea.”
Even though it is the one thing I want now more than ever, it is also the last thing I need. We will just end up right back where we were, and if he is living here now, it will only hurt him more.
“No, not like that. I just want to talk and we can’t do it here. Please, Cheyenne?” The look of despair in his green eyes is my undoing. I would do just about anything he asked.
“Okay, we can talk. But that’s it.” I state, more to myself than Sam.
To my side Becka is sucking on the straw in her empty glass trying to pretend she hasn’t been listening. “Becka, meet Sam. Sam, meet Becka.” I motion between the two.
“Good to finally meet you Becka. I feel as though I already know you just from the stories Cheyenne has told me over the years.”
“Same here.” Becka has seen pictures of Sam and only knows certain details of our past.
“I apologize, but I need to steal Cheyenne away. Do you need a ride home?” Sam asks. He is that guy, the one who is always looking for everyone else.
“No, I will be fine. Sawyer and Preston will be there any minute. Good luck.” Becka says, patting Sam on the arm.
“Thanks. I always need it with this one.” Sam smiles looking down at me and I almost forget they were just talking about me like I wasn’t here.
“Hey now you two!” I say, crossing my arms and raising my brows.
I am not that difficult. Am I?
“You kids go on. I will let Sawyer know where you are.”
“Thanks.” Hugging Becka, I grab my bag and walk out with Sam.
When we get outside, Sam lets me know that his apartment isn’t too far away and asks if I mind that we walk. He has never visited before so he doesn’t know that I also live nearby. We spend the walk in silence, which gives me time to think about what I want to say to him.
If I would have just let Sawyer warn me the other night, I could have been way more prepared. Now, just seeing him here has my head twisted and almost makes me wonder why we stopped talking. I want to be happy that he is living so close, but at the same time, I know this changes everything.
His apartment complex is one that I am familiar with. And at moments like this, I begin to regret my careless behavior over the years. Last year I hooked up with a guy named Jake who lived in this complex on the third floor. It sure would be a bitch to run into him tonight.
Sam’s apartment is on the first floor and when he unlocks the door, holding it open for me, I walk in and take a look around. Boxes are scattered all over the living room that hardly has any furniture. His TV is sitting on the floor in the corner and there is black futon on the opposite wall, which like the rest are all white and lack any touch of personality. All in all, your typical college guy apartment.
“Can I get you a drink?” Sam asks, leading me over to the futon.
“No, thank you.” Sitting down I place my hand in my lap.
I don’t know why I feel so nervous. This is Sam. But I guess, that in itself is the problem. It’s the way he is able to evoke all these feelings and emotions that I’m sometimes not even aware I have, and I am afraid one day I won’t be able to contain them.
“So you seemed surprised when I turned around. Did you not know it was me?” Sam asks, sitting down in the center of the futon.
I can feel the warmth of his leg against mine and my heartbeat picks up.
“Yeah, I didn’t know it was you. Falling down… definitely embarrassing.”
I nervously run my fingers through my hair, mostly because the moisture from walking outside is causing it to frizz and begin to curl up.
“So you sent me a drink, not knowing it was me?”
“I thought you were hot. Honestly, it was your ass. You know what it does to me.”
I laugh, but he isn’t smiling, so I change the subject.
“You cut your hair.” I say, sad that his long golden locks are gone.
I reach up and run my fingers through the short length he has on top. Sam closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying my touch. He always loved when I ran my hands through his hair, and said it always relaxed him.
“Yeah, I needed a change. Plus, this is a more professional look.” I force my hand away from his head and place it back in my lap to refrain myself from touching him further.
After a brief moment of silence, I am about to say something when Sam speaks up first. “I am sorry for what I said.”
Confused I ask, “What are you talking about?”
“When I said you were a glorified booty call. I was angry and I didn’t mean it. I hated myself for saying something like to you and tried calling a million times to apologize but you never answered. I’m sorry, Cheyenne.”
I turn my body to face Sam, not wanting him to feel any regret or pain from what happened in our past. I place my hand on his arm and he grabs it, holding it between his.
“I know you didn’t mean it.” I say. “It was a tough time for everyone after Austin’s accident. Our emotions were running wild, and I wasn’t exactly being nice.”
“Can we talk about it? I won’t flip out this time, I promise. I just get so confused with you and never where I stand. You’re always so hot and cold.” He pauses and I’m not sure I am ready to respond yet, so he continues. “The times we were together were always amazing and left me wanting more. I have always wanted more, Cheyenne.”
“They were amazing, Sam. And I don’t want to hurt you. But I’ve told you, I can only offer so much. What you want, the relationship and the commitment, I just can’t do it.” I hate knowing that I am causing him such pain, but I am hurting myself also.
“Why?” He asks, squeezing my hand in his. “What is it that has you so freaked out?”
“All of it.” I rush out. “Most of all, just the idea of losing myself completely in someone and then taking the chance of them leaving me broken. I can’t do it.”
“Cheyenne, how can you not know by now? I could never leave you. It’s just not possible.” The sincerity in his eyes killing me.
I feel the tears pooling. “You don’t understand how badly I want to believe that.”
Pulling one of his hands away from mine, Sam gently wipes the fallen tears from my cheeks.
“I wish I had a better way to explain it, but please know that if I could be that girl for anyone, it would be you, Sam. Only you.” I am barely able to get the last word out before I break down.
; Everything I have been holding in since I last saw him comes rushing out in sobs.
Wrapping his arms around me, Sam pulls me against his chest, kissing my head.
“Shh… I don’t want to see you upset like this. We can stop talking about it for the night.”
I snake my arm around his mid-section and mold my body to his side, resting my head on his chest. This is where I feel the safest, in Sam’s arms. The irony is lost on me that the one person I feel the most for is the one I run away from.
Sam holds me like this until I have shed my last tear, the whole time running his hand up and down my back and kissing my head.
Exhaustion settles in, causing me to yawn.
“Stay the night with me.” Sam says holding me a little tighter. “I just want to spend the night holding you.”
“Okay.” I whisper.
Even if I didn’t want to stay, I was too tired to make it back home. This is where I wanted to be.
Lifting me up with him, Sam stands, and carries me to the bedroom. Much like the rest of the apartment his bedroom is mostly bare. In the middle of the room is a queen bed with dark gray linens and with the adjacent wall holding the dresser.
“I need to use the restroom first.” My face feels sticky from crying and I can only imagine the streaks of mascara running down my cheeks.
“Right through here.” Sam says, showing me door on the other side of the hallway. “Do you want something to sleep in?”
“A shirt would be nice.”
Walking past me towards the dresser, I grab Sam’s arm stopping him and pulling him closer. Shaking my head, I tell him, “No, this shirt.”
Sliding my hands under the bottom of his shirt, I run them up his defined abdomen remembering what is was like to have my mouth on his body. Dragging the shirt up as I go my eyes stay locked with Sam’s heated gaze, only breaking it to pull the shirt over his head. Sam stays still the entire time allowing me to strip off his shirt and I can feel the want burning in his eyes.
Placing my hand on his chest I feel his heart rapidly beating. Closing my eyes, I start to pull my hand away, but Sam catches it. Lifting my eyes to meet his mesmerizing gaze, I watch as he brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses my palm. Such an innocent gesture and I am feeling it all the way down in my core. I need to walk away before I lose my resolve.
Without a word, he drops my hand and I turn around crossing the room to the bathroom. After the door is closed I feel the breath return to my lungs allowing me to breath again. Leaning with my hands braced on the small vanity, I take a few deep breaths in and out.
I can do this.
I can spend the night, in bed with Sam, and not let my hormones run wild. No big deal.
Turning on the water I splash my face and wipe away the remaining make up, leaving only my freckles to show. My hair has started to wave and poof out, but there is no help for it since my hair tie is in my bag, which is all the way in the living room.
I take off my dress and bra, folding them in a pile on the vanity. As I slip Sam’s shit over my head, I inhale his scent, savoring every second.
Please give me the strength to handle this.
When I walk back into the room, its dark and Sam is already sitting in the bed, his chest still bare. Smiling, Sam pats the bed next to him and I make my way over.
This is silly, I feel like a virgin on her first sleep over.
Pulling back the covers I sit next to him, unsure of what to do or say. I would love to slide over across his lap and indulge in his body, allowing him to make me forget myself, only the way that he can.
It’s going to be extremely hard being around Sam, without being with Sam.
“I have to say I am happy you sent that drink over tonight,” he says, putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer. “Well, I guess I should probably thank my ass for that one.”
With a tiny break in the sexual tension I allow myself to sink further into Sam and laugh.
“It always was my favorite.”
“This has always been my favorite.” Sam places his hand under my chin, tilting my face towards him, and runs the back of his fingers against my cheek. “Wild hair, no make-up, and these adorable freckles that sprinkle the top of your nose. Just pure, Cheyenne.”
My heart rate spikes and I lift myself up, bringing my mouth to Sam’s. Slowly I brush my lips against his, before pressing them down, lingering for a moment before pulling away.
Before I lose what little control I have left, I turn on my side away from Sam. The bed shifts behind me and I feel his arm wrap around my mid-section pulling my back against his front. My small frame always fits just perfectly in Sam’s larger one. Laying my arm over his, I entwine our fingers resting them just below my breasts.
Giving my hand a light squeeze, Sam whispers in my ear, “Goodnight, little red.”
With a kiss to my shoulder, he snuggles me tighter and I relax, allowing my guard to fall just for the night.
CHAPTER SIX
I wake the following day, alone in Sam’s bed. Earlier this morning I heard him moving quietly about his room, but I just couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. I still exhausted and emotionally drained. On the pillow next to my head I find a piece of paper with Sam’s scribble on it. Lifting myself to a sitting position, I pick up the note and read what it says.
Had an early class and didn’t want to wake you.
We still need to finish our talk.
Please call or text me later.
-Sam
He was right about that. We still had a lot to talk about, but honestly it was a conversation I really didn’t want to get back to anytime soon. It always has the same outcome; I end up hurting Sam, and that hurts me.
Once I finally pull myself from Sam’s bed, I neatly pull the blankets up, remembering how he always kept his room tidy and made his bed every morning. After redressing in my clothes from the night, I find my way back to his living room, where I locate my bag. I pull my phone from its usual inner pocket and release a frustrated breath when I realize the battery is dead.
Great.
Placing my phone back into its pocket, I also stuff the new shirt I decided to steal into my bag.
As a girl left alone inside the apartment of a guy that you are quasi involved with, what would you do?
Snoop around, of course.
That is how I found myself rifling through one of the many boxes taking up space in his living room. And precisely how I come across a framed photo; one that I also have a copy of in my room. It’s a picture of Sam with me on one side and his mom on the other, taken the night of our graduation. This has to be one of my favorite pictures. I love the smile on Sam’s face with has his arms wrapped around his mom and my shoulders, pulling us in close.
When I lean down to return the picture to the box, the next thing I notice is a newspaper article peeking up at me. Recognizing our hometown logo, I can already see that it is the sports highlights from our senior year when they wrote an article on Sam’s baseball season.
Lifting it from the box to read it more closely, I instantly replace my attention to the photo that appears from underneath it and drop the paper to the side.
It is a more recent photo of Sam looking incredibly sexy on the beach in his board shorts. His usually tanned skin is even darker from lengthy sun exposure, which makes his green eyes appear brighter than usual. However, it’s not how mouthwatering Sam looks that catches my attention, but rather the blonde supermodel that is wrapped around him smiling into the camera.
Her long and natural looking blonde hair cascaded down her back. Standing to the side, showcasing her amazing rack and long slender torso, she was pressed snuggly up against Sam’s side resting her hand on his chest. Attached to the torso was a pair of legs that went on for miles. His arm was wrapped around her waist resting along her hip and they both sported pearly white smiles dripping with happiness.
Fucking Barbie and Ken.
They looked perfect together and with
his short hair, I realize it must have been taken sometime in the last eight months. It was possibly even this summer before he moved, leaving me to question if this is an old girlfriend, or even worse, a current one.
What does it matter, Cheyenne?
You don’t want to be with Sam, remember?
I close my eyes and take several deep, calming breaths before I return the picture to the box and grab my bag to leave.
I am great at denial and every time I say that I don’t want to be with Sam, what I really feel is that I want nothing more than that. Sam is one of a kind and I know that I would never be able to find someone that could come close to comparing to him. However, at the same time he deserves more than what I can offer, and I won’t allow myself to be so selfish.
Pushing through the apartment door, I am surprised to see Sawyer sitting at the kitchen bar, eating a sandwich. She looks up as I enter, exploring my eyes in an attempt to gauge my mood. Becka would have informed her last night about my run-in with Sam and leaving the bar with him.
In a silent offer, Sawyer lifts the untouched half of her sandwich, to which I shake my head to decline. Setting my bag down on the counter, I reach into the refrigerator and pull out a green jar. I have yet to have any coffee today and right now I have a bigger craving for a pickle.
“Just remember, I tried to warn you.” Sawyer says cautiously, as I bite into the tangy dill.
“Yeah, I put that together last night once I saw him.” Screwing the lid back on the jar I place it into the fridge before taking a seat next to Sawyer.
“Becka told me about the drink incident. I wish I had been there.” We both laugh.
“Oh, it was real epic, especially when I fell on my ass.”
When I think about it, it is rather funny. His ass landed me on mine.
“So..” Sawyer drags out, “..you and Sam…” Moving her eyebrows up and down she waits for me to fill in the blank.
“Nothing happened.” I state and Sawyer looks at me like I am full of shit. “Really. Nothing happened. We talked and we slept. That is all.”
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