“YOU’RE JOKING, RIGHT?” He had to be out of his mind.
“Not even close.” His confident response momentarily smothered my disbelief. But I knew he hadn’t thought this through.
“Sam.” I pulled out of his grasp and shook my head. “You’re excited and I’m sure it just seemed like the right thing to say because I’m standing here, but you and I both know that moving in together is not going to happen.”
“Yeah? Why not? You’re my best friend. We’re both single and we’re both living at home with our mothers like losers. If that’s not perfect timing, I don’t know what it is. It’s almost like we’re meant to be . . . roommates.”
“Perfect timing?” Okay, now he was just plain delusional. I started to pace, utterly confused. “Sam, if you haven’t noticed, the reason my divorced ass is shacking up with my mother is because I’m flat broke and she’s dy . . . she’s sick. She needs me. I wouldn’t leave her now even if I wanted to.”
His expression turned somber as his jaw ticked beneath his five o’clock shadow. “Do you want to? I mean, if it weren’t about Ella, would it be something you’d consider?”
“Sam.”
“Stop saying my name over and over!” His hands flew about before grabbing chunks of hair at the top of his head.
“Then stop being ridiculous!” I yelled back.
He came closer, eating up the space between us in two long strides across the porch. “Nothing about this is ridiculous. You hate being alone, you don’t know how long your mother will be in the hospital, and even if some miracle happens and she comes home tomorrow, do you really like sleeping in a twin-sized bed and tiptoeing around like you’re still a teenager living under her roof?”
Of course I didn’t, but that was a moot argument. I didn’t get the chance to make my case, however, because he was soon rambling on with his arms outstretched to demonstrate his point. “I just bought this big house and I have all this extra room. You could have one of the bedrooms to yourself and live here rent free. I make good money, London, and I have no one to share it with. I don’t mind having you as a permanent guest for however long you’d like. In fact, I think it would be a lot of fun.” Ardent fingers clutched my shoulders. Sam’s eyes teemed with passion as they penetrated mine. “In the past, so many things stood in our way of something like this. But not now. Now, the timing is right. It could be a new chapter, for both of us. Think about it?”
Think about it? What was there to think about? This whole idea was crazy. It didn’t make sense. I mean, if I really sat and thought about it, it might, but there were so many things to consider. So many ways this could go awry. The first scenario that popped into my head was Bryce’s reaction when I explained that I was moving in with my single, gorgeous, male best friend.
“What about Bryce?”
“What about Bryce? You’ve known him all of five minutes. I’ve been in your life for almost twenty years. He has no claim on you. No one does.”
“And you do?” My defenses were up. I knew Sam meant no ill intent, it was quite the opposite, actually, but he failed to see the big picture.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just—”
“You just didn’t think it through!” I interrupted. “What happens when you bring a woman home and she bumps into me in the middle of the night on her way to the kitchen for an after sex snack? You think that’ll go over well?”
Sam rolled his eyes, dismissing me. “You know damn well I’m not even dating anyone right now.”
That roused a hearty snort out of me. “Since when do you have to be dating someone to sleep with them? You haven’t even been home a week, but I’m sure you’ll be back to your old antics as soon as you’ve caught up on your emails and updated your Tinder app.”
“Tinder,” he repeated, making a razzing sound as if what I said was preposterous.
It totally wasn’t, by the way. Sam had a five-star rating in dating app world, not that I had any idea how the rating systems worked on those things. Point was, he might not settle down anytime soon, but it was only a matter of time before someone—or more than one someone—was keeping his new bed warm and toasty.
“Come on, Sam. Think about it,” I pleaded. “I won’t feel comfortable bringing Bryce here, either. It’s just not feasible. Even if my mother wasn’t my main concern, and I assure you, she is.”
He let out a pained huff and shrugged. “Whatever, Debbie Downer, thanks for taking all the fun out of my exciting night.”
“Hey, now.” I sidled beside him. Our shoulders touched as we leaned against the railing with our backs to the street. “I’m really thankful for the offer but I’m sorry. I can’t.” I pushed off the whitewashed wood and stood facing Sam. When he wouldn’t drag his eyes up from the ground to look at me, I kicked his shin.
“Ow!”
“Got you to look at me, you big baby.” I winked and smiled, hoping he would return the gesture.
He didn’t but I could tell by the slouch to his stance and the shallowness of his breathing that he wasn’t actually mad at me. He was just annoyed that he was wrong and I was right. Such a man.
“Come on. Be happy about the house and don’t sulk over something that was never a possibility.”
“Never is a very strong word, London.” It was something he often said. A bit of clever advice. A warning. A foreboding.
“Okay, I won’t say never if you stop acting like a kid who just lost his balloon. We should be celebrating, not arguing.”
“Oh, you mean, you’re allowed to go out with me? Your new boyfriend won’t give you shit?”
I scrunched my brows, an instant stress headache forming. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”
Sam pushed off the railing and started for the stairs. I followed close behind so I could hear what he was saying. “I know you were on the phone with him before. He’s keeping tabs on you. And I see how he looks at me when we’re together. Doctor Love is not a fan of Sam the Man.”
He hadn’t called himself that in ages. I wanted to laugh but the heavy cloud of jealousy that hovered above us overshadowed all levity from the situation. This was insane. First Bryce, now Sam. This had been an ongoing theme since the moment I introduced them. I couldn’t fault Bryce, but Sam knew better. His sudden machismo kind of ticked me off, so I did what anyone else would do in this situation and biffed him off the head when we reached the sidewalk.
“That’s twice!” He stopped walking and rubbed the spot where I smacked him. “You gonna stop hitting me or is that part of the new and improved, wild and domineering sex kitten act you’ve got going on with your man?”
Wild and domineering? Sex kitten? Oh my God, he heard me talking to Bryce! My cheeks immediately burned and the shells of my ears sizzled with embarrassment. “Screw you, Sam. You’re just mad I wasn’t talking to you like that.” The stupid retort flew off my tongue without foresight.
He stalked toward me, our noses a whisper’s width apart. “And what if I am? What if I do want you to talk to me like that? What if I want to hear you whispering those things in my ear while I jack off to images of you . . . of us together?”
I froze. I had no words. No reaction. Sam had never said anything like that to me. I didn’t know how to gauge this. Was he serious? Was he joking? What the hell was going on?
Luckily, I didn’t have to ask because he saw it. I was thunderstruck, a motionless creature in the center of a bustling world that made no sense.
Even before he told me so, his eyes begged for forgiveness, the creases on his forehead and at the bridge of his nose displaying his regret.
“I’m sorry, London. I didn’t mean to . . . I’m just . . . I shouldn’t have said that.”
There was no need for an apology but his comment had come so far out of left field that the wheels in my head spun on an endless revolver of unanswered questions. I could simply demand the answers, but then again, to dwell on this would only make things more awkward. I took a deep breath and blinked away my confusion, wishing we could rewind to five minutes ago when things didn’t seem so . . . different.
“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about it and go grab a drink. Are you hungry? I’m kind of hungry.” I wasn’t at all. I was actually very unsettled, my appetite non-existent. But I was sure this uneasiness would pass. Sam and I were best friends. We’d argued before. We’d gotten into fights and didn’t speak for weeks, then everything went back to normal as if nothing happened in the first place.
Like most friends, we didn’t always have the same opinion and we had many differences. But in all the time I’d known Sam, I never had this pit in my stomach when he was close. I was never intimidated by his heady stare or vulnerable to his familiar touch. And I certainly never looked at him and saw what was staring back at me right now.
Longing. Deep-rooted, unbidden, longing.
I always believed the saying about truth spoken in jest. Maybe Sam was joking, trying to get a rise out of me, or testing my loyalty. But whether or not Sam was messing with me when he said he wanted those things wasn’t the issue. No, the true dilemma would be pretending he hadn’t planted the seed of possibility in my head.