Chasing the High

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Chasing the High Page 19

by Beth Michele


  The doors to the elevator opened and Sam stepped out. He had a strange smile on his face that I couldn’t read. My eyes trailed down to his hands where he gripped a plastic cup filled with lemon water in one, and in the other… “What the fuck is that?” I questioned, eliciting a sneer from a couple sitting nearby. But there was a smile in between my words. It was the first one I’d managed since hearing about Joe. Leave it to Sam to be the one to drag it out of me.

  I stared at the lemon piercing what looked like a Popsicle stick. A smile was drawn on it in black marker. Sam held it inches from my face—and I fucking laughed.

  “This is Mr. Lemonhead. His sole purpose is to cheer you up,” he explained, and I snorted.

  Speechless. I was fucking speechless. And I may not have known what to say, but I damn sure knew how I felt. With every second that passed, I fucking adored Sam that much more. My heart was a tangled mess of emotion. None of which I knew what to do with.

  Sam plopped down beside me, handing me the cup. “Now drink your lemon water.” He grinned. “Mr. Lemonhead insists.”

  Without a second thought, I leaned over and kissed him, letting my lips linger. Needing to feel our connection. “Thank you,” I whispered against his mouth. He retaliated in his sweet way, cupping the back of my head and pressing his own kiss to my forehead. My heart tripped over itself.

  A throat cleared and we glanced up to someone in green scrubs. With his bleached-blond hair and deep tan, he looked more like he should be surfing than in an operating room. It definitely put me off. His gaze darted between us as we stood. “Drew Calloway?”

  Sam jumped in and clapped me on the back. “This is Mr. Calloway.”

  He nodded. “I’m Dr. Golden and I wanted to let you know your father is going to be okay.” I let out a shaky breath and Sam squeezed my shoulder. “Given his age, we opted not to do open heart surgery because the risks were too great. Instead,” he explained, “we did a procedure called a TAVR, where we were able to repair the valve without needing to remove the old one.” He pointed to the spot over his heart. “We made a small incision in his chest and used a catheter to wedge in a replacement valve.” He smiled. “I know it’s a lot of lingo, but the long and short of it is he’s going to make a full recovery. He’ll be here for about five days then outpatient rehab for a short time after that. He’s headed to Intensive Care now, where he’ll stay overnight. But you can see him after they get him settled. The nurse will let you know, and by that time the anesthesia will have worn off a bit so he might be a little more coherent.”

  “Thank you.” I shook his hand, which didn’t come close to showing my gratitude for saving Joe’s life. He left us to head to the nurse’s station when he stopped and looked back. “That one in there. He’s a real fighter. Which is a huge part of why he’s still here.”

  It wasn’t until the doctor left that his words hit home. “Joe’s gonna be okay,” I said more to myself than Sam, but he responded anyway.

  “Yes, he is. And I’m really glad.”

  Relief swam through me and my gaze climbed to his face. “Thank you, for… keeping me sane… and for… taking care of me.”

  Sam lifted one shoulder in a shrug like it was nothing. But it was so much more than nothing. “You’re welcome.” He pulled me in and wrapped a strong arm around my waist. “I kind of like taking care of you,” he whispered against my hair. He pressed a kiss to my head then gestured toward the door. “Now what do you say we get something to eat and then we go see Joe?”

  I smiled. “I’d like that.”

  SAM STOPPED ME with a hand on my forearm as we were about to enter the ICU. “Are you sure you don’t want to have some time with him? Honestly, I don’t mind waiting out here.”

  “No, I’m good. I want you with me.” I tried to offer up a reassuring smile with the little energy I had left.

  As the automatic doors opened, I sucked in a breath, attempting to block out the smell of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air. It reminded me too much of the last time I was here. It reminded me of death.

  My body broke out into a sweat and my throat was too dry to swallow. And when the beeping of the monitor reached my ears, my hand flew to my stomach. Sam was right by my side as if he knew I might fucking lose it at any moment.

  “Remember, he’s going to be okay,” he whispered, and I released an unsteady breath. Sam found a seat in the corner of the room while I walked over to sit on a chair beside the bed. With pale skin and all those fucking tubes connected to his limbs, he looked nothing like my Joe—the raspy, spirited man I’d come to love over the years.

  Careful to steer clear of all the tubes, I covered the hand free of the IV with my own. Joe’s eyelids fluttered open. He squinted up at me, his voice hoarse.

  “Drew.”

  “Joe.” Relief sputtered out of me in a weighted breath and I dropped my head onto his hand. “You fucking scared me, old man. Don’t do that again.”

  “Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, son.”

  Even with everything that happened, his humor still made an appearance. My head lifted to his weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

  He winced. “Like I been to hell and back.”

  “Do you want me to get the nurse?”

  He gave me a weary shake of his head. “Nah. She’ll be in soon enough, I reckon.”

  His fingers were cool to the touch and I pulled the thin blanket higher on his waist. “Okay. But in the meantime, no more talking. You need to be resting.”

  “Stop growlin’ at me. It’s gonna take a lot more than this to keep me down, son.” His eyelids drooped and within five minutes, he was asleep. Sam quietly moved his chair beside mine, immediately taking hold of my hand.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” I stared at Joe, rubbing the exhaustion from my eyes. “Now that I know he’s okay I am.” My finger traced the wrinkled grooves in Joe’s hand. “This man, he’s always been there for me. Always showed up for me. He used to come watch me swim at the YMCA to support me. Sometimes he’d come with my mom. Sometimes alone. My father, who knows what the fuck he was doing. But Joe,” I shook my head on a sigh, “he was there. He made me feel like I mattered.”

  Sam’s thumb moved back and forth over my knuckles. “Everyone needs someone to make them feel like they matter.”

  My heart couldn’t fight his sincerity. I wanted to wrap myself in it. But at the same time, I wanted to fucking run.

  The nurse popped in, giving us a brief smile before replacing a bag on Joe’s IV pole. She gestured to Joe in a whisper. “He’s going to be in and out of sleep the rest of the night from the anesthesia. It might be a good idea to come back tomorrow.”

  I think Sam could tell I was hesitant to leave Joe. The moment the nurse stepped out of the room, he leaned closer and softened his voice. “I think she’s right. And I also think you need to go get some rest. Then we can come back.”

  My nod was reluctant at best, gaze still on Joe. I stood, bending to place a kiss against his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Sam looped his arm through mine. “Come on. I’m getting you home. I’m not done taking care of you.”

  SAM MADE GOOD on his promise. He didn’t let go of me once as we left the hospital. There was always some part of him—his arm, his hand, his foot—that was touching me. Making sure I knew he was there.

  Why me? I just didn’t fucking get it.

  It was after midnight by the time we climbed out of the taxi. The street was unusually quiet, but my mind was all over the fucking place. Running back and forth between Joe… and Sam. I couldn’t stop questioning everything—and I couldn’t stop myself from voicing it.

  “Why, Sam?”

  He stopped near the entrance to my apartment building. His hand was still in mine. “Why what?”

  “You could have anyone. Why me?”

  He let go of me and heaved out a sigh. The streetlight cast a glow on his face, until his gaze shifted upward to the black sky. “You�
�re going to make me do this here, aren’t you?” Both hands were plastered on his hips now. “You’re going to ruin my plan.”

  “What plan? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Sam let out a breathless laugh and dropped his head, shaking it from side to side. “I… I was making this big plan in my head about how I was going to tell you. I wanted it to be perfect, just like I want everything else in my life to be. Controlled, organized, you know? But love isn’t like that. And I know this is awful timing and it isn’t very romantic.” He exhaled a nervous laugh, raising his eyes to mine. “But I think I just realized it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t take away from how much I feel for you.” His hand flew to his heart, like he couldn’t contain whatever was going on in his chest. “I love you, Drew.”

  My head jerked back. “Love? No, Sam. You couldn’t possibly love me.” But even as I refuted the words, I knew they were true. It wasn’t only his intense expression or the way he stood by my side. It was my heart. Something was different, and had been since the moment we’d met. Maybe I loved him too. What the fuck did I know about love, though? My gaze searched the ground. For words. For answers. I didn’t fucking know anymore. “I… I’m kind of a mess, you know? I don’t mean on the outside, I mean on the inside. The place where it really counts. I don’t deserve that kind of love. I’m not sure I ever have.”

  Sam stepped closer, taking my face in his hands and lifting it to meet his eyes. They were filled with emotion. “I’m a mess, too. Have you seen me? I have anxiety, and a propensity for needing things in order. I know that I also have a bit of an obsessive-compulsive nature. But so what? It doesn’t mean I don’t deserve love. And you…” He shook his head on a soft smile. “You have heart… and you shine so bright. In a sea of stars I’d know exactly which one you were. I’m drawn to that light in you, Drew. You give me hope. You make me want to take chances. To try new things—to live life in a different way.”

  My mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come. They couldn’t bypass the lump in my throat. I wondered who he was talking about because it sounded nothing like me. Or the me I’d come to believe I was. But I liked his version.

  He brushed his lips against my forehead. “I’m letting go of my preconceived notions about all this. How about you let go, too? Just try,” he whispered, pulling in a breath. “Let me love you.” I nodded on a hard swallow as a tear caught the edge of my eye. Sam’s smile hit my cheek and he reeled me in for a hug. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

  My body crumpled from the weight of his words and the fucking exhaustion jarring my bones. Sam released me, only for a minute, before he grabbed me under my knees and hoisted me off my feet. He cradled my head against his chest.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m loving you,” he whispered. “And you’re letting me.”

  That shut me up. And I didn’t say another word. Not when he carried me up the stairs. Not when he took my keys and unlocked the door. Not when he set me down gently and laced his fingers with mine, leading me into the bathroom. I didn’t question. Or wonder. I did what I always managed to do best. To stay in the moment—with Sam.

  He flicked on the light, and it was only then that he untangled our fingers. I didn’t take my eyes from him as he turned on the shower and gathered a few towels from a nearby shelf.

  Getting down on bent knees, Sam pulled off one of my sneakers then the other. My socks followed. He stood, sweeping my hair away from my temple and placing a kiss above my brow. He was so fucking tender that any ability to breathe left me.

  His fingertips slipped under my shirt and I shivered. He took his time, easing it along my chest and over my head. Nothing about this felt sexual to me, and fuck, it left me open and vulnerable. Sam’s words—his touch—his gaze—it stripped me of all the bullshit until the only thing I could do was feel. And, for the first time, I wasn’t scared. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

  Sam lowered himself to the tile, reaching up to tug on the band of my sweatpants. He slid them down with my boxers until they were lying in a heap on the floor, and all that remained was my erection. There wasn’t much I could do about it. Sam’s touch did that to me.

  His gaze dipped only for a second before he rose to his feet, letting his stare roam all over me. Chills covered every inch of my skin. I’d never felt so naked before. But then, recognition seemed to light his eyes and he dug a hand into his pocket. When I saw the sea glass necklace emerge, my heart beat in my throat.

  “This belongs to you.” He kissed my forehead before I bent so he could loop it around my neck and seal the clasp. He stood back, my breathing erratic as he toed off his shoes. His shirt came next, and I glanced at the smooth definition of his chest. I’d seen it before, but it never got old. Sam was fucking beautiful, in all the ways that mattered.

  He popped the button on his jeans, the sound vibrating in the quiet of the bathroom. I licked my dry lips and tried to swallow as his fingers breached the waistband. With his gaze locked on mine, he shrugged off his jeans and boxers. And fuck, he was so hard. His arousal was thick and long, and fully erect.

  For a moment, we stared at one another, our loud breaths filling the small space. Until he reached out—as he always did—to lace his fingers with mine. I followed behind him as he stepped into the shower and adjusted the warm spray above us.

  Moist steam clouded the air as Sam flicked the cap on the shampoo and drizzled some into his palm. The scent of lemon verbena drifted between us and he gave me a soft smile. Threading his hands through my hair, he massaged the soapy suds into my scalp, fingertips moving in a circular motion so soothing I closed my eyes. Events of the day plowed into me, and between the heat of the water coasting over my tired limbs, and Sam’s gentle touch in my hair, it was too much. Emotion grabbed hold of me and I had to brace an arm against the slippery tile.

  And then I fucking lost it.

  A noise tore from my chest as salty tears dripped down my wet skin and into my mouth. It sounded nothing like me. It was pain, and relief, and maybe even fucking gratitude.

  Sam’s hands stilled in my hair. “Drew, it’s okay.”

  I tried to speak, I really did. But it was pointless. More sharp cries left my throat and Sam dragged me against his chest while I fell apart. I should’ve been embarrassed. I was a Goddamn mess. The last time I remember shedding this many tears was at my mother’s funeral. Considering that was twelve years ago, I guess I was making up for lost time.

  I’m not sure how long we stood like that. The water pounding down on us, Sam’s arms wrapped tightly around me while I clung to him. But when I finally pulled away, it was better. I was better.

  My eyes stung and I blinked up at him through the haze. A smile grew along his cheeks and he was looking at me as if I hung the fucking moon.

  He made me feel like I could.

  “Better?” His tone was soft, and my slight nod gave him his answer. “Good.” He kissed my jaw. “Now tip your head back so I can rinse your hair.”

  I grinned. “I like bossy Sam.”

  “You may like him but you’re not obeying him.” He chuckled, and I offered up a mock salute before letting my head fall under the water. White suds whirled down the drain as Sam’s skilled fingers gave me the best shampooing I’d ever had. But he wasn’t done yet. He retrieved the bar of soap and lathered up a washcloth. Starting with my neck, he glided the cloth over my throat, along my collarbone, trailing the curve of my shoulder. The more he explored, the faster my breaths came. A rush of goose bumps mingled with the suds beading up on my skin. This no longer felt like he was washing me. It felt like he was worshipping me.

  I squeezed my eyes closed, unsteady, my heart beating wildly in my chest. Meanwhile, the cloth drifted down, skimming over my nipples, my abs, then lower, grazing my hip. My cock hardened, thickening against his stomach and I groaned. The cloth dropped to the floor with a smack and my eyes popped open as Sam’s fingers continued to wander my skin. His hands moved up to cradle my face and wor
ds spilled from my mouth faster than I could fucking control them.

  “I missed you, Sam. God, I missed you so much.” A blinding brightness entered his eyes and I smiled. Amidst the water turning cool, I felt warm all over. “I missed… everything about you.”

  Almost reverently, he kissed both corners of my mouth before his lips covered mine. His tongue dove inside. Teasing. Sliding. Searching. Rediscovering old places and turning over new ones. He tasted like something I never thought I’d have. But now couldn’t imagine my life without—

  Him.

  Sam deepened the kiss, and I moaned as his erection pressed into my groin. I wanted him inside me. He was already inside my heart, and now I needed him the rest of the way. I gripped his hips, fingertips digging into his wet skin. He groaned into my mouth and the vibration traveled straight to my dick.

  “Sam.” I backed away, panting. “I want you to fuck me.”

  His heavy breaths matched mine. “Are you sure?”

  My eyes lowered to his cock, hard as hell, before climbing to his face. “I’ve never been more sure. I want you inside me.”

  He peered through the shower door then back to me. “Here, or…?”

  The idea of slippery shower sex was hot as fuck, but I wanted Sam in my bed. I wanted to give him something I’d never given anyone else. “In my bed.”

  He turned off the water behind me. “We should dry off first, yes? I mean, otherwise your bed will be a mess.”

  I grinned. “You know my answer.”

  His brow raised. “Fuck drying?” I nodded, but Sam’s gaze darted around like he was unsure.

 

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