by Rebecca Shea
He finally releases my hands, and they lazily flop to my sides as my body has expended all of its energy on the way down. I'm officially tapped out. My head falls to the side as Sam groans and finds his own release inside me. He lowers himself on top of me, and I manage to wrap my arms around him.
He stays inside me, brushing the stray hairs off of my face. "How are you feeling?" he asks, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.
"Can't talk," I barely muster as I'm still trying to catch my breath. "Amazing," I finally answer him.
"Don't tease me, Katie. I'll always win.” He chuckles and slides out of me. I don't even have the energy to argue with him, but I'll get him back for this. "Now we can sleep," he says, pulling a sheet over us, but not before sliding over to me. He intertwines his legs in mine and wraps an arm around my waist, locking me into position.
"No one leaves tonight," he says and closes his eyes.
"No one leaves," I respond, and for the first time today, I feel like I can finally breathe.
* * *
I thought it was a dream, the pounding in my head, but the second I shift in bed I knew it isn’t. Waves of nausea hit me as I slide off the bed and search the dark room for my clothes.
I can hear Sam shifting as I try to get my bearings. "No one leaves," he mumbles quietly, his voice full of sleep. I barely make out what he's saying against the constant thud in my head.
"Sam," I cry out, falling to my knees. Crashing down on the floor with the force of my entire weight, I crumble and begin to cry.
"Kate." I hear him kicking the sheets off of him, and I hold my head between my hands. I haven't had one this bad in a long time. "What's wrong?" he asks, his tone becoming anxious as he pulls me up off the floor.
Between gasping breaths, I'm able to tell him where to find the medicine I need. In a flurry of activity, I hear him run out of the room, a few seconds later the front door slamming behind him. What must’ve been less than a minute, but felt more like an hour, Sam is back. Even though I can tell he has the lights on, my headaches cause temporary vision loss. I can make out large objects, but not details. I can see Sam next to me and make out the bed just off to my left.
"What do I do?" he asks, sitting down next to me.
"The plastic case," I tell him, and he hands it to me. I'm so used to giving myself injections that, within seconds, I'm pressing the injectable syringe to my thigh and pushing the button to deliver the pain medicine I need to help me cope with these debilitating headaches.
With a snap, the needle hits my thighs and I begin counting to five hundred. It takes about five minutes for the medicine to begin offering relief. When I get to thirty, I ask Sam for water, and I hear him rush from the room and return with a glass.
By the time I get to one hundred and eighty, I've taken the anti-nausea medication that I pray will keep me from vomiting on Sam's floor. "Give me about five minutes," I tell him, and he sits down next to me. I can feel his worry as he pulls me closer to him, covering me with a bed sheet as he rests his back against the end of the bed. He does his best to tuck the sheet around me without trying to move me. My heart rate decreases as the pain begins to lessen, and my muscles are relaxing as well.
The pounding is still there, but it’s beginning to minimize when I finally stop counting at three hundred and eighty-four in my head.
I try to push myself up, but Sam stops me. "Don't move," he says as he starts to stand. He slides his hands under me and carefully lifts me, the sheet falling off of me and to the floor below. He walks us cautiously around the end of the bed and lays me gently back in the spot I left about ten minutes ago.
"What just happened?" he asks, shutting off the bedroom light. The entire bed shifts when he crawls back in next to me. I allow myself to curl into him. His grasp is protective and strong. His heart beats wildly against my back, and his thighs curl just under my bottom.
"I get headaches," I begin, just above a whisper. It still hurts to talk, which is normal. I pause, trying to focus on breathing and the incessant pounding that is still wracking my head. "I need sleep," I mumble, the medicine clearly making me drowsy.
"Then sleep," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of my head. He holds me in a vise like grip, as if he's afraid I'll vanish into thin air. His arms are comforting and exactly what I need right now.
* * *
When I wake up, the sun is barely peeking through the drawn curtains in Sam's room. The bed is empty next to me as I rub my temples. My clothes are nowhere to be found so I wrap myself in the bed sheet that's still sitting on the floor from last night, or early this morning, whenever my headache came on.
I hear Sam's voice as I open his bedroom door and walk down the short hallway out to the living area and kitchen. Sam is standing at the large island in a pair of athletic shorts, his chest bare and his cell phone pressed to his ear. His eyes follow me as I approach him.
"Ten clubs that we know of," he says before he stops abruptly. "Can I call you back? I have to take care of something here."
I run my hand across the cold stone counter as I wait for him to end his call. His eyes never leave me, and they tell me he's concerned.
"Thanks." he says, tossing his phone on a stack of folders in front of him. "How’re you feeling?" he asks, stepping up to me and reaching for my hands. He pulls me closer to him and I oblige.
"Better." I take a deep breath. "What time is it?" I glance outside at the bright sun.
"Ten-thirty."
I gasp. "Sam! Why didn't you wake me up? I have to work!" I pull out of his grasp.
He shakes his head and reaches out, stopping me as I move to leave. "Not today, Kate. I talked to Nick. He called someone." Sam's shoulders rise, and he steps in front of me blocking my escape.
"Adam?" I ask, frowning.
"Yes! Adam,” he confirms. “Nick told him you were under the weather and taking the day off. Adam said ‘thank fuck’ because apparently you're a workaholic and never take time off." He raises his eyebrows and waits for my reaction.
I roll my eyes, still feeling a dull pain in the back of my head. "I'll just go in for a half-day," I tell Sam, trying to shrug out of his grasp.
"Nope. You have strict orders." He smirks.
"From who?" I narrow my eyes, anxious to see whose orders I'm following. I don't like being told what to do.
"From me." He runs his thumbs up and down my bare forearms, not letting me out of his hold.
"And who do you think you are?" I cock my head and purse my lips, trying not to smile.
He leans in, pressing a light kiss to my lips. "Who do you want me to be, Kate?" His warm breath causes a shiver to run up my spine.
I gasp loudly, pulling away from him. "What did you tell Nick? Oh my god, did you tell him I stayed with you?"
Looking amused, Sam responds, "Actually, he didn't ask any questions. I'm going to assume," he makes air quotes with his fingers, “that he thinks his little sister is old enough to make decisions about where and with whom she spends the night."
"He'll fire you," I snap at him.
But Sam is unfazed as he laughs at me. "He's not going to fire me."
"You don't know my brother." I shake my head. Nick has never intervened in my past relationships, but I cannot believe he'd want me sleeping with his newest employee.
"Kate. Calm down. Nick is a smart man. I'm going to bet he was able to deduce the situation. His only concern was for you."
I let out a long sigh. "Fine. But don't get too comfortable here. He'll probably transfer you to New York by the end of the week."
Sam laughs again, pulling me into his arms, and presses a kiss to my temple.
"Well then, you better start packing," he whispers against my forehead.
Chapter Twelve
Sam
”So talk to me about the headaches," I tell Kate as my thumb taps the steering wheel.
She sits in the passenger seat of my car, her body angled toward me with her head resting on the back of the seat.
Two days ago, Kate scared the living shit out of me with her headache episode, and she's been reluctant to talk to me about it. I now have her trapped in my car for an almost thirty minute commute to her friend Adam's house for a barbecue, and I'm going to force some damn answers out of her.
"It's not a big deal, Sam." She sighs heavily. That's been her go-to answer every time I've asked her about it.
"Bullshit." I chance a glance at her. Her eyes are downcast, and she's pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. I hate the vulnerability I see, but I need to know. "You scared me."
"I'm sorry," she says, reaching out and placing her hand on my arm.
"Just talk to me. I need to understand what you're dealing with, so I understand what we're dealing with." It's a bold statement, but I don't give a shit. If I can help her, I will.
She pulls her hand back and laces it through her other, placing them both in her lap, her sign of retreat. "I don't know what to tell you," she says softly. "They started about a year ago. At first I thought it was because I needed glasses, so I had my eyes checked and that wasn't it." She pauses. "But over the last six months, they've increased in severity, so my doctor wants me to have an MRI."
Merging onto the freeway, I look over to Kate again. Her fingers are twisted so tightly together they're turning red.
I grip the steering wheel harder as I think about what could be the cause of her headaches. "So we'll do the MRI. When is it scheduled for?"
"We'll do the MRI?" She smirks at me.
I find no humor in this conversation. What happened the other night was serious and scared the shit out of me. "Yes. We'll do the MRI. I want to be there for you, Kate. If you'll let me."
Her smirk becomes a serious smile as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'd like that. A lot," she says, turning to look out the passenger window. Then her smile fades as I lose her to her thoughts, her own internal battle as to what's causing them.
"Everything's going to be fine," I tell her, laying my hand on her thigh. "You've probably got a pinched nerve in your neck or something like that." I try to shrug off the seriousness of the situation and lighten the mood, but I can see fear written across her face. "Hey." I reach for her chin and turn her head toward me. "I mean it. Everything is going to be just fine."
"Okay," she says with a short nod.
"So what do I need to know about Adam?" I change the topic.
Kate shifts in her seat and turns back to me. "He's my best friend," she deadpans. My stomach turns when she says that. Best friend? "He's married to Melissa, she's the greatest." She smiles. "And they have the sweetest little baby boy, Mason."
My stomach suddenly calms as she tells me what a great family man Adam is and how much she likes Melissa. We pull up to the bungalow style house, and Kate oohs and awes over the neighborhood. Apparently, she loves these southern style homes and points out architectural features as they differ from house to house. Her eye for detail is like none other.
With a bottle of wine in one hand and Kate's hand in my other, we maneuver the walkway and up the three stairs to the front door. Just as we approach, the door springs open and there stands a woman holding a baby and swaying from hip to hip.
"Kate," she says with a large smile. "I'm so, so glad you came. We're outnumbered. Adam's old fraternity buddies are in the backyard wanting to relive their glory days…tonight…at my house!" She sounds exasperated, and her eyes bulge as she continues to sway. "I have a bad feeling a keg and hookers are going to show up in a couple of hours!" she says with a laugh.
"Boys!" Kate chides, laughing before she immediately reaches for the baby boy in Melissa's arms. She handles that baby with such ease, propping him up on her shoulder as Melissa reaches out for my hand.
"I'm Melissa," she says with a sincere smile.
"I'm sorry, I should’ve introduced you," Kate says, and she kisses the chubby cheek of the baby in her arms. "But I couldn't wait to get my hands on this little nugget!" Kate begins walking with a little bounce in her step, cooing at the little bundle in her arms, and I take Melissa's hand for a shake.
"Sam Cortez," I offer. "Since it appears we'll be chugging beer tonight, I'm going to assume that wine is a bit overstated?" I joke, handing her the bottle of merlot.
"Beer for those hooligans." She rolls her eyes, using her thumb to point toward what I assume is the backyard.
"But Kate and I will enjoy this!" She holds the bottle up and gives it a little shake. "Come on." She waves at me to follow her. "Guys are this way." We walk through the small living room and into a large kitchen. The entire house looks recently remodeled. Nothing fancy or over the top, but simple and clean.
Just off the back of the kitchen is an open sliding glass door leading out to a wooden deck. Four guys are standing around, drinking beers and laughing. Kate steps outside, still cuddling that baby in her arms and walks up to the group of men. A man I presume is Adam leans in and one-arm hugs her, pressing his lips to the baby's head.
I follow Kate and Adam peers at me over Kate's shoulder. "Going to introduce us?" he says, nudging Kate.
She rolls her eyes at him, and I can’t help but grin. Adam is nothing that I had expected him to be. He's medium height and build, normal-looking in an ‘I wouldn't notice him on the street’ kind of way.
"Sam Cortez," I reach my hand out to him before Kate even has a chance to introduce us.
"Adam Anderson." He shakes my hand in return. Even a common name. Nothing strikes me as threatening about him, and I instantly put any of my hesitations about him being Kate's best friend to bed.
"Nice to meet you," I start. "I've heard a lot about you." I notice Kate's smile growing as Adam and I talk.
"Beer?" he offers, looking around for the cooler.
"Ah, yeah…please."
He walks to the edge of the deck and pulls a bottle of beer from the cooler, handing it to me when he returns. "I'm glad you could join us." He looks over to Kate, who's still swaying from hip to hip with the baby tucked safely in her arms. She looks beautiful holding a baby, so natural. "So Kate tells me you work with Nick." He looks to Kate and then back to me.
"Yep." I nod my head, taking a sip of cool beer. "Just transferred here from Phoenix."
"Why?" he asks and I go still.
Kate stops swaying, giving Adam a hardened look. She shakes her head a little bit, causing him to shrug, and I wonder what's been said about me prior to this conversation.
I shake off the uneasiness settling between us and tell him the truth. "Was just time for a change. I grew up in Phoenix, went to college in Phoenix, started my career in Phoenix…it was time to get out—time for a fresh start." I press the beer bottle to my lips and take a long pull as I watch Adam absorb what I've told him.
He looks at me skeptically and back to Kate as he continues. "Well, you chose the right place to move. It's amazing here!"
Kate visibly relaxes as Adam tells me all about the weather, the beach, and everything he likes to do outdoors. He actually sounds like a pretty cool guy, someone I could see myself hanging out with. Walking over, Kate stands next to me just as Melissa arrives with a glass of wine.
"Hold this, will you?" Melissa hands the glass to me and takes the now sleeping baby from Kate's arms. "You're a baby whisperer. He's been so fussy lately." She arranges the little guy in her arms before turning around to take the baby inside.
"I love that little boy," Kate tells me as she watches Melissa disappear with him.
"He's a cute kid," I remark.
"Thanks," Adam says, taking a drink of his own beer. "He looks like me."
Kate rolls her eyes and both Adam and I laugh. Kate pulls the wine glass from my hand and walks away, leaving Adam and I alone as she introduces herself to the three men who Adam was speaking with a few minutes ago. I love how outgoing she is…even when I know she'd prefer not to be. She has this comforting air about her, and everyone who meets her instantly warms up to her.
"So you and Kate," Adam says candidly, roc
king back and forth from heel to toe.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "What about us?" I ask, sounding a bit defensive.
He takes a deep breath. "I mean…she's—"
"You don't have to worry about her, Adam." I try to say it without sounding like a dick. "I like her. I have no intentions of hurting her."
He instantly stops rocking and smiles at me. "It's not her I'm worried about," he says, letting out a small laugh. "She goes through men faster than she goes through shoes. Three, four a month. You should hear the stories…"
My stomach drops, and I'm sure the look on my face says exactly what I'm feeling.
"I'm just kidding, man!" He slaps me on the shoulder as he roars with laughter. "You should’ve seen your face."
I shake my head and finish the rest of my beer, handing him the empty bottle.
He tosses it into a plastic recycling container on the deck and continues. "But seriously, Sam. She's a great girl. A good friend." He clears his throat. "I just don't want to see her hurt," he says, sounding genuine.
"I don't either," I respond, my voice clipped. I don't know what he's alluding to, but I'm not going to hurt Kate. "And like I said, I have no intention of hurting her."
"Good," he says with a curt nod, ending our conversation. "Let's get you another beer."
* * *
The rest of the evening is spent laughing, relaxing by the large bonfire, and having a good time. Adam and Melissa's friends are great, and everyone has been very kind and welcoming to me and Kate, who’s currently curled up next to me on a patio couch. Her head is resting on my shoulder, and her knees are tucked up underneath her as Adam tells us wild stories of his time at UCLA. Melissa and Kate giggle periodically as Melissa rolls her eyes at the exaggerated stories these guys are sharing.