Chapter Fourteen
Nothing compared to having Haley snuggled up next to him, all soft, warm and naked. So, why had his mind started to spiral again? Because there was nothing strings-free or casual about what they’d just shared, that’s why, and this was a first for him. Yep. He’d just had superglue sex—the kind of sex that bound two souls together for a lifetime and led to a mortgage, two-point-five children and a minivan. Maybe even a dog.
He swallowed a few times and rolled onto his back. His arm was trapped under Haley’s neck, and her bare bottom pressed against his hip. Sam stared up at the ceiling. What if he did decide to go down the soul-binding path with her? Say they had a family together, and everything was fantastic. And then one day he got another one of those life-shattering phone calls telling him his wife and children were never coming home again. Then what? He wouldn’t survive a blow like that. No way would he be able to continue on with his life. He’d be a zombie—breathing, heart beating, but dead all the same.
Or . . . what if he wanted to get serious and she didn’t? Or . . . what if, after being together for years, she decided she wanted to quit him?
Loss sucked. Relationships ended. Eventually, everyone died.
Hell, his grandparents were already in their seventies. How much longer would they be around? He had uncles and aunts, cousins, his brother and sister and a few friends. His potential for grief was already huge, and he’d never intended to add to the number.
Just enough light from the street filtered through the blinds that he could make out Haley’s slumbering form beside him. Her soft brown hair tickled his arm, and sweat had formed where her cheek rested against him. He was torn between wanting to spoon with her all night and running fast and far away from everything she represented.
Dammit, keeping himself free from further emotional entanglement had been his only defense against the very worst kind of pain—the pain of losing the one. The only, who had the potential of becoming the very center of his universe—the celestial body his life would orbit around year after year after year. His heart pounded, and his palms were sweaty. Again. Haley turned over, made a soft snuffling sound and snuggled closer, throwing her arm across his waist and a leg over his thigh. Too much. Too intense. Too . . . everything.
Three hundred and sixty degrees of pressure encircled his chest and squeezed until he was sure his heart would explode. This time, a heart attack for sure, because pain closed in around him, leaving him dizzy and breathless. He needed air, needed to get out of here. Sam disentangled himself from Haley and slid out from under the covers. He searched the floor for his clothing, shoes and socks.
“What are you doing?” Haley propped herself up on an elbow and yawned.
“I . . . uh.” He stood with his things bundled against his aching chest. “I have to go.”
“Go?” Haley glanced at the digital clock on her dresser. “It’s two in the morning, Sam. Where do you have to be at two a.m. on a Saturday morning? Come back to bed.”
“I can’t . . .” He swallowed a few times. “I need to . . .” Blind panic stole his ability to think, much less express what he was feeling. Not that he wanted to anyway. “Have to go.”
“Of course you do,” Haley bit out. She punched her pillow a few times and laid back down, curling into a ball with her back to him. “Leave then, and don’t forget to lock the door on the way out.”
There was no mistaking the hurt in her voice and in her posture. A sharp twinge of guilt only added to his panic. He left, tugging on his clothes along the way. He sat on a chair in the living room to put on his shoes and socks and shoved his arms into his coat. Opening the front door brought in a welcome blast of frigid air. Sucking in a huge gulp, he locked the doorknob, shut Haley’s door behind him and made a dash for freedom.
The panic didn’t recede until he parked his SUV in the lot of his apartment building, and then the full impact of what he’d done slammed into him with Haley-wielding-sledgehammer force. He’d run out on her, leaving her feeling rejected and hurt. He groaned as that realization was followed by another. After trying so hard to convince her he wasn’t the love ’em-and-leave ’em lothario she’d assumed him to be, he’d just confirmed every single stereotypical belief about him she’d ever held. He couldn’t blame her for thinking the worst.
Something inside him tore, and his eyes burned. No matter how badly he wanted to, the thought of going back sent him reeling again. Sam dragged himself to his apartment, stripped down to his briefs and T-shirt and fell into his cold, empty bed. He stared at nothing, unable to sleep for the painful pounding inside his skull.
Loss sucked all right, whether it happened because of an accident, old age or, in his case, the absolute stupidest thing he’d ever done. He’d destroyed what he’d had with the only woman he would ever love. Sam rubbed his aching chest.
Yes, indeed. Haley was the one, his only, and he’d run from her. She’d never forgive him, and he saw no way to justify his actions. After everything was said and done, he was a lothario after all.
Showered, dressed and depressed, Haley reached for a large garbage bag from under her kitchen sink. How could she have been so stupid? Tigers didn’t change their stripes. She’d believed Sam cared. In fact, one part of her still believed, but the truth was—he’d left. She’d been played. Worse, like every other one of Sam’s brief sexual encounters, once the job was finished, she’d thrown herself at him.
A tear slid down her cheek. She sniffed and wiped it away, cringing at the thought of how he’d run out of her bedroom, clutching his things. He couldn’t get away fast enough. “Idiot,” she muttered. Have to go, and I can’t. A man who says that to a woman he’s just slept with does not intend to come back. Hadn’t he told her he didn’t do relationships? Why had she believed she’d be the one to change his mind?
She had a mess to clean up, and she welcomed anything that would occupy her enough to keep her mind off her foolish mistake. She turned on some music and padded back to her dining room, the garbage bag dangling from her hand. A knock on her door stopped her in her tracks, and she held her breath. Sam. She’d been wrong about him again. Relief flooded her system.
Dropping the bag, she hurried to her front door and threw it open. She squinted against the brightness of the morning sun. “Mom? What are you doing here?” Her stomach dropped, and disappointment nearly choked her. Fool. Had she really thought the handsiest handyman in the Twin Cities would return to the scene of yet another sexual conquest?
“I thought you might need some help cleaning up.” Trudy stepped inside, her gaze darting around Haley’s bungalow.
“He’s not here.”
Her mother set her purse and coat on the couch. “Who’s not here?”
Haley walked back to the dining room. “Never mind. My personal life is off-limits.” Haley picked up the garbage bag. “Or it’s emigration time for me. I’m thinking Toronto, Canada. I hear it’s a great city.”
“Hmm.”
“Mom, why are you really here?” Haley waved a hand around her house. “I appreciate the offer, but I know you. Whatever it is you have to say, let’s get it over with.”
“All right.” Trudy fetched one of the dining room chairs from the living room and set it by the table. “I’m sorry. I know how wrong it was to . . . to try and get Sam to make a pass at you. But Haley, I knew you would never take him up on the offer.”
“Right. Who does that, Mom?” Her eyes burned, and she blinked back the tears threatening to give her away. She had taken him up on the offer. Even worse, she’d been the one to initiate things.
“I’ll admit it wasn’t one of my brightest ideas, but I thought if you knew a hot guy found you attractive, you’d get over Michael and get out there and date again.” Trudy went for another dining room chair. “I promise I will never meddle in your social life again. All I’ve ever wanted was for you and Frank to be happy.”
“And grandchildren.” Haley tsked. “Don’t forget the grandchildren.”
“Yes, and grandchildren.” Her mother grinned. “It would be nice, but whether or not I ever have grandkids is entirely up to you and Junior. I realize that. Your happiness comes first.”
Dammit, her eyes filled again. “I want a family, Mom, but fixing me up with . . . with anyone, is not the way it’s going to happen. I accept your apology, and I’m going to hold you to your promise.”
“That’s settled then. Let’s clean up this mess.”
“OK. I appreciate the help, by the way.”
Her mother held the garbage bag open, and Haley tossed things inside. Sam’s plastic bowl still sat on her table. He’d left it behind in his haste to escape any possibility of attachment. Josey’s painted ceramic dish holding the dried remains of her spinach dip had been left behind as well. A few tears escaped and traced down her cheeks.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Trudy straightened.
“Nothing,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m just glad we settled things between us. It’s been stressful.” Haley lifted Sam’s bowl and dumped the leftover bagel chips into the trash bag. She stacked a bunch of other dishes inside his bowl and brought them to her kitchen, setting them in the sink to deal with later. Her phone rang, and again her hopes soared. She hurried to the living room and snatched it from the coffee table. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” Kathy said. “I was wondering if you wanted to see a movie tonight, a girls’ night out, you, me and Felicia.”
This pathetic hope, followed by staggering disappointment, had to stop. Sam wasn’t going to call. He didn’t do relationships. He only did drive-bys. She’d made him work a little bit harder for it, that’s all. Haley steeled herself and pushed away the hurt. “I’d love to. Do you want to meet at the theater, or go together?”
“Felicia and I will come by for you at five. We’ll have dinner somewhere near the theater first.”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.” Haley ended the call and turned to find herself the object of her mother’s speculative stare. She shook her head. “Off-limits.”
“I know.” Her mother’s lips pursed. “I didn’t say a thing.”
Haley stifled the urge to snort. “I appreciate how very difficult not saying anything must be for you.”
She would get through this. She would. In a few days—make that weeks—she’d stop thinking about Sam. When that happened, she’d join one of those online dating sites. Be proactive. That would be her new motto. Never had she doubted what she wanted, and just because it hadn’t happened yet didn’t mean it never would. Maybe Kathy’s boyfriend knew another single fireman he could introduce her to. Her heart wrenched. She’d ask in a few weeks, not now—not while Sam’s rejection still stung.
“And then he grabbed his stuff and practically ran out of my house. No explanation, no ‘I’ll call you later.’ Nothing,” Haley said, looking from Felicia to Kathy. “All he said was, ‘I can’t,’ and ‘Have to go.’ If it didn’t bite as much as it does, I’d think the whole thing was pretty funny. And no. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“Oh, my God, what a dip-wad.” Kathy gripped the edge of the restaurant table, her eyes narrowing. “I told you if he hurt you, I’d find him and kick his ass.”
Haley checked out the diners in their vicinity to see if any of them were eavesdropping. They weren’t. “It’s my fault. I did what all of his female clients do. I threw myself at him. I practically begged him to stay.”
“Your first one-night stand,” Felicia murmured.
“My only one-night stand.” Haley stirred the watered-down remains of her drink with her straw. “You know, it’s weird, but my mother’s ridiculous scheme kind of worked.”
Kathy’s brow creased. “How so?”
“She wanted to jump-start my social life.” One side of her mouth quirked up. “It sort of did. I’ve decided to join an online dating site. I’m serious about meeting someone, so if either of you know anyone you think I’d get along with, fix me up.”
“So . . .” Felicia played with the stem of her wineglass. “Was Sam any good in bed?”
“Felicia,” Kathy cried. “I can’t believe you asked her that. Can’t you see he broke her heart?”
“What?” Felicia drew back, her eyes wide. “Can’t I live vicariously here?”
“He was amazing,” Haley said with a sigh. “And my heart’s not broken. I’ll get over it. It’s not like I got left at the altar again. Sam and I didn’t even know each other all that long. We only went out a few times.”
Yes, but they’d worked together on her house for hours and hours, sharing things about themselves that they hadn’t shared with anyone else. As far as she knew, anyway. Maybe he told all the women he met about the way he’d lost his parents. Like her, they’d feel sorry for him . . . and offer comfort sex. Gah. I’m so gullible.
Kathy leaned in. “It doesn’t take any time at all to fall in love, Haley. We’re here for you.”
She stared at the glass in front of her. “I appreciate it.”
“We’ve got to get going if we don’t want to be late for the movie.” Felicia picked up the folder holding their tab. “Should we just have the server split this three ways?”
“Sure,” Haley said, reaching for her purse.
By the time her friends dropped her off at home, she felt more optimistic and less ready to cry at the slightest memory of Sam. That lasted only until she went into her newly remodeled bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. She and Sam had shared their first kiss here. Every single tile reminded her of the patient way he’d taught her. She missed his charming smile, the way he smelled, moved and talked. Forcing her thoughts away from him, she firmed her resolve. She would get over him. Eventually.
Sam pushed his uneaten bowl of cereal away. He had no appetite, and even if he did, he doubted he’d be able to swallow. His insides felt weird, like all of his internal organs had tensed up in fight-or-flight mode. He rubbed his scratchy eyes. He hadn’t slept either. Thank God it was Sunday and he didn’t have to work.
He brought his bowl to the sink and dumped the contents into the disposal. The sun pouring through the door to his tiny balcony drew him, and he walked over to look outside. Not a cloud in the sky, and the snow sparkled and beckoned. This would be a perfect day to go snowmobiling. His heart wrenched. Snowmobiling with Haley had been a blast. He’d gotten such a kick out of the way she’d squeal and tighten her arms around him when he accelerated.
Groaning, he picked up his phone and speed-dialed his brother. Wyatt answered on the third ring. “Hey, you want to take the snowmobiles out?” Sam asked. “It’s a perfect day.”
“Not today. I’m in the middle of a project.” Wyatt sounded distracted, the way he always did when he was deep into one of his comic book ideas.
“How about catching a movie tonight?”
“Mmm, how about you come to my apartment later? We can rent a movie on cable and order pizza delivery.”
“Yeah, OK,” Sam said. “What time?”
“Give me until five.”
“Five it is. See you later.” Sam let his brother get back to his project. That left him with an entire day with nothing to do, no one to do it with and way too much on his mind. What was Haley up to today? Probably calling all her friends to tell them what an A-hole he turned out to be. He was no better than her ex, bolting without a word of explanation. He should go back to her, at least tell her . . . Tension banded his chest, and he went breathless. He couldn’t. Rubbing the painful spot over his heart, he searched for something to turn his mind away from the panic.
Laundry. He’d do his laundry and clean his apartment, and maybe watch football until it was time to go to Wyatt’s place. Before Haley, he’d never felt lonely. And now? Loneliness bounced around inside the empty chambers of his heart. Hell, he’d only known her for a couple of months. He’d get over this. He’d get over her and carry on. He headed for his bathroom to shower, dreading the hours, days, weeks and months it would take before he stopped missing Ms. Cooper.
As he knew they would, the hours dragged by. Sam watched the clock and channel surfed. Nothing held his attention. Finally, it was time to go to his brother’s place. He grabbed the six-pack sitting in his fridge and headed out. How pathetic? He was downright desperate for company.
He parked his SUV in front of the old apartment building Wyatt lived in on the west side of Saint Paul. Located a few blocks from the Mississippi River, the turn-of-the-century brick building had once been luxury apartments. Nothing had been done in the way of maintenance or improvements for decades though, which was why the rent was so reasonable. Still, it was a nice area with plenty to do within walking distance, and Wyatt’s apartment had lots of what he called character.
He strode to the security door and hit his brother’s buzzer. The heavy glass door clicked, and Sam took the short flight of stairs to the first floor. Wyatt waited for him with his door open.
“Hey,” Sam said, hoisting the six-pack. “I brought beer.”
The sound of a child’s laughter behind him seemed to catch Wyatt’s attention. Sam turned in time to see a cute blonde with a little boy in tow coming up the back stairs. The woman smiled briefly and continued on her way up the next flight. Wyatt smiled back and watched her, while Sam watched him. “New neighbor?” he asked.
“Not really.” Wyatt drew back into his apartment. “She and her son have lived here for about eight months now. She lives in the apartment right above mine, which is great. Unlike the last tenants, she and her son are quiet.”
“What’s her name? Have you talked to her?” Sam followed Wyatt into his kitchen and handed him the six-pack.
Wyatt’s face reddened. “According to her mailbox, her last name is Malone, and no, I haven’t spoken to her other than a greeting now and then when we run into each other in the hallway.”
Sam nodded. Normally, he’d give his brother a rough time about that, but after what he’d done, giving anyone a hard time about women didn’t feel right. “Have you checked out what’s available on pay-per-view?”
“Not yet.” Wyatt handed Sam a beer and took one for himself before putting the rest into the fridge.
“So, what have you been working on all day? Can I see?”
“Sure.” Mentioning his work brought a smile to his brother’s face.
Sam followed him to the smaller of his two bedrooms, which Wyatt had set up as a studio. He’d placed a drawing table and stool by the east-facing window, and a large sheet of paper with colorful panels lay across the surface. Sam moved close to take a look. His brother had a unique style, bold and angular, and his hero wielded lightning bolts from his hands to fight the dastardly otherworld creatures of evil. Wyatt’s graphic tales often included a damsel in distress, and his latest damsel looked a lot like the blonde they’d encountered in the hallway.
“Wow, you’re so freaking talented.” Sam grinned at his brother. “Have you heard back from your latest submission?”
“No, not yet, but it’s no big deal if I get rejected.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t have a job. I just really enjoy creating the stories and the graphics. In the meantime, I’ll keep coming up with new ideas.” He took a swig of his beer. “How’s Haley? She too tired after her party to go snowmobiling with you today?”
Sam nodded and turned away, his face heating. A lump clogged his throat. No way did he want to tell Wyatt what had happened, especially after he’d told his brother he had no intention of hurting Haley. In fact, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Eventually, like the Loaded Question radio show, Haley would fade from everyone’s memory. Everyone’s but his.
Guilt pinched at his heart. He owed Haley an explanation. He couldn’t bear the thought that he was no better than her ex, leaving her hanging the way he had. He’d call her soon and ask her if they could talk. Even thinking about facing her stole his breath.
“What kind of pizza do we want?” Wyatt asked, leading the way out of his studio.
“Anything’s fine with me. I’m not picky.” What difference did it make? His stomach had tightened to the size of a walnut, and he couldn’t eat anything anyway. “Order whatever you want.”
He moved to Wyatt’s living room and took a seat on the couch to search for a movie involving lots of explosions and car chases. Something action heavy and plot light—anything that didn’t require trying to keep up or think. “Hey, have you seen the latest Marvel Avengers movie?” he called, scrolling through the options.
“Nope.” Wyatt walked into the room, holding a menu and his cell phone. “Sounds great.”
Wyatt ordered their pizza, and Sam selected the movie. A wave of gratitude engulfed him. Wyatt had no idea that his insides were in a semipermanent twisted state, yet just being with him helped. Familiar and safe, that’s what he needed. Once he apologized to Haley, he’d return to his routine, hang out with family, and eventually he’d feel like himself again. He slouched down on the couch and leaned his head back. He could hope, anyway.