Sam

“Sam?” Olivia calls from the front door. The muffled voices of Drew and Paige filter throughout my loft.

Splashing cold water on my tired face, I peer into the bathroom mirror. On a long, shaky breath, I steel myself, digging deep for my reserves. They’re here. I can do this…I think.

It’s been five weeks, over a month since his death. Olivia’s been here every weekend. She’s come to me, every time. I haven’t asked; she just knows. Truth be told, I haven’t been in the frame of mind to even think about what I need, what I want. I’m just going through the motions.

While the thought of them all being here is comforting, I’m not sure if I’m up for the company. It’s been low-key and quiet when she has been here, just us, and I wonder if I can keep two teenagers entertained.

“Hey,” I respond, my voice tight.

The three of them turn, each with their own warm, caring smile aimed at me. Paige and Drew coming to see me is a big deal; it means something that both of them gave up a weekend with their friends for me. Olivia slips into my embrace, gathering me—a man almost twice her size—in her strong, inviting arms.

She perches up on her tiptoes and her lips delicately brush mine. “Hey,” she whispers, her smile small and knowing, her gaze soft.

“Sam.” Paige’s voice cracks as she launches herself at us; it’s rather dramatic, but no less sweet.

Her slender arms wrap around her mother and me. Breathing in her girly scent, it brings a small but true smile to my face. I’ve missed her too, this feisty, sweet girl who has bit by bit become my friend. I lean down and my lips lightly kiss the top of her head.

“Hey Paige, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m so sorry about your father. Mom’s told us about him and I wish we’d met…” Her voice trails off when she thinks she’s said something wrong.

“Hey.” My voice is soft, understanding as I cup her cheek. She steers her gaze back to me. “He would have loved meeting you, and you.” I look over at Drew, who is standing awkwardly to the side. He smiles weakly. “And thanks for coming. I’m glad you’re here.”

As I say the words, I realize it’s true. I am glad they’re here, and also grateful that we’re staying with Alec for the weekend. This is exactly what we both need—young people to snap us out of our blues.

Like a hurricane, the four of us descend on Alec with chaos and upheaval, but in a good way. At first, Alec is clearly bewildered and flustered, not knowing if he’s coming or going, but as the day goes on he begins to unwind, settling into his old self, the man I knew before the loss of Bas.

With a deep, hearty chuckle, Alec snags Paige around the waist and ruffles her hair. She shrieks, her fingers frantically combing through her dishevelled locks in a poor attempt at fixing the mess.

“Young lady, I think you cheated,” Alec accuses.

“I didn’t! You’re just a sore loser,” she retorts, raking all the poker chips to her side of the table.

“Sorry, Alec, but Paige is a card shark. She comes by it honestly—my father was good at poker and taught her everything she knows,” Olivia explains.

Drew hands me a beer before sitting back down at the kitchen table. “Although, she has been known to cheat.” He sends a knowing glance at his sister.

Paige’s cheeks redden as she abruptly stands, hands on her hips. “Drew, shut it. That was one time. One time. And I said sorry and promised never to do it again, and I haven’t,” she protests vehemently.

Olivia and Drew laugh, obviously knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “Well, now you have to tell us,” I insist. “You can’t leave us hanging. What gives, Paige?”

Huffing, she crosses her arms. “Sam, it was one time, I swear. I was playing with Popzie and I was losing. So, I just, um…”

“She was counting cards,” Drew cuts in.

“Was not! I don’t even know what that is,” Paige fumes.

Alec’s laughing so hard, his eyes water. “Come here,” he calls to Paige.

Tugging her wrist, he pulls her into a hug, his arms banding around her middle. She willingly embraces him, resting her cheek on the top of his head as he softens in her hold. The sight of the two of them tugs at my heart. I wish he were here. I wish he could meet them. Why didn’t I have Paige and Drew meet him? Damn, I hate regrets. I hate wishing for something that’s futile, something that’s never going to happen.

“You’ve got to teach me,” Alec jests. Paige giggles.

Our weekend is amazing; I can hardly believe it. We have fun and truly enjoy ourselves, so much so that the time flies by. The kids surprise us by cooking dinner one night, and it is actually pretty good. Alec has a good time, a really good time, laughing for the first time in a while and smiling—boy did he smile.

They’ll leave bright and early in the morning; Drew has a long day of driving ahead of him as he heads straight back to school once he drops off his mom and sister.

It’s four in the morning and they’re all asleep. I’m up, can’t sleep.

As I drizzle olive oil in the hot pan, it sizzles and pops as I twirl on my heel to scoop the mirepoix into my hand and drop it into the skillet. Instantly, the alluring aroma of the simple but delicious base—the secret ingredient in many dishes—hits my nose. Stirring the onion, celery, and carrot by habit, I’m lost in the haze of the calming task, one I’ve completed too many times to count.

Her sweeping, soft, almost invisible touch along my bare back ignites a soothing and exciting sensation within me, pulling me back.

“That smells so good.” Olivia’s sultry voice warms me. “What are you making at this hour?”

She doesn’t ask if I can’t sleep; she knows. She’s found me before, up in the middle of the night doing one thing or another. She doesn’t need to ask— her being her is enough.

Placing the wooden spoon on the rest, I turn off the burner and bring her to me. My arms encircle her slender waist as I crush her chest to mine, my feverish skin tingling with want. Heat flares in her eyes and her hair is wild, cheeks tinged.

“I was making soup, but now I’ve lost interest and would rather make something else.”

“Oh? What are you in the mood for?” she asks in a seductive tone.

“You. I want to make love to you.” I nibble along the column of her neck. Delectable. “Although, I think I’d rather devour you. You don’t need any seasoning. You taste perfect the way you are.” As I suck and lick behind her ear, my fingers burrow into the tender flesh of her backside.

I move her body fully against mine and my delicate hold grows greedy. Our lips mash against each other and a landslide of emotion crashes over me, threatening to consume, drown, strangle me. I never want to stop, never want to let her go. She’s made for me. I’m made to love her.

She quivers in my arms as her breathy moan slides down my throat, reverberating through my chest. Dragging her up my body, her torturous curves set fire to all my nerve endings along the way. I’m a whirlwind of frenzy and her legs wrap snugly around my waist as I carry her to the kitchen chair.

Straddling my lap, her slender hands cling to my shoulders, pulling me closer as she kisses me, hard and hungry. Going for the hem of her shirt, she prepares to lift it over her head, but I stop her.

My trembling hands still hers. Her eyes widen, cloud with uncertainty. Without thought, only instinct, I’m driven to confess.

Say it.

Words that have been on my lips many times before, but that I’ve held back, waited to voice, knowing she may not be ready to hear them. Now is the time to tell her.

Say it.

My entire body trembles, teeming with emotion. No doubts. I need to tell her.

Say it.

“Olivia.” My voice is low, gravelly with affection. “I love you.”

My fingers caress her cheek, my breath suspended as I wait. Hesitancy veils her gaze and her breath hitches as her fingers dig into my flesh.

“Sam.” Her voice wavers, gulping on my name. “I…um…I…”

Grabbing me, her fingers thread through my hair at the nape of my neck as she harshly brings me to her mouth, covering mine. Her tongue invades the space, hard and demanding as she kisses me. I cup her ass and she rocks into me. My cock painfully throbs and as much as I’m caught up in my desire for her, it’s not lost on me that she’s not said a word in response to my raw declaration.

Working her tongue against mine, her hard nipples rub and tease my chest through the thin fabric. Her body tremors as I run my hand under her shirt, the pads of my fingers dancing across her abdomen, up to her breasts.

Palming their heaviness, then I lightly pinch her peaks, rolling them between my finger and thumb. Her head tips back, her breathing ragged as she bites her lip to stifle her whimpers of satisfaction. I love watching her lose all inhibition.

Amidst my soft, delicate kisses to her jaw and lips, she peeks at me through the fan of her dark lashes. Lifting her, I carry her to the bedroom where I show her how much I love her, how important she is to me.

She may not have said it, but the love is in her eyes. I feel the love in the way her body responds to me, in the way she gives herself to me, welcomes me into not only her body but also her heart and soul. She’s stolen my heart and every time she leaves, she takes it with her. I need her to stop leaving.

I need her to stay.