Sam

Sam was sitting in the ridiculously ornate four-poster bed video chatting with Megan on her laptop. She didn’t know what time it was in Boston, but she knew Megan would be wide awake. Sam was convinced her best friend never slept. Megan practically mainlined double espressos. According to her, all film students did. And since Megan planned to major in film writing, she’d been getting a jump on her vampire lifestyle since sophomore year.

“What are you wearing?” Megan asked, wrinkling her nose in distain.

Sam had already given Megan a tour of the ostentatious bedroom in hopes she’d be too distracted to notice the frilly nightgown. No such luck.

“Some ugly pajamas I found in the guest drawer. My dad fell asleep and didn’t even bother to bring my bag in from the car. Which is apparently locked up until morning when the valet staff comes back.”

“Oh poor princess, locked in a castle. I feel so bad for you, Sam.”

“Shut up, Meg! You’re supposed to be making me feel better.”

“What do you have to feel crappy about? You’re staying in a castle . . . in Ireland! I would kill to be you right now.”

Sam snorted.

“Is super hott Devon there?”

“Yes,” she groaned.

“Oh my god! Like in the same castle as you? Why aren’t you jumping his bones right now?”

“Ew, Meg! Who says that? And it’s not an actual castle, by the way. It just kinda looks like one.”

“Who cares? Tell me more about hott Devon. What happened after you slammed your laptop closed in my face?”

“Not much, we went out to a pub.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Oh, give it up, Sam. I can see it all over you face. Something happened.”

“We may have sorta kissed.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!” Megan shrieked so loud Sam had to hit the mute button on her laptop. Sometimes being friends with Megan was exhausting. The girl had more energy than a Chihuahua on Red Bull.

“Will you calm down?” Sam squawked once Megan stopped screeching.

“I knew it! I can always tell when you’re hiding something. You can’t look me in the eyes! And NO! I will not calm down. You just made out with the hottest man in Ireland. I want details.”

“He’s not that hott,” Sam lied, trying not to think about the Olympic kiss.

“Are you kidding? He looks like James Franco, Rob Pattinson and Ian Somerhalder had a love child. He’s genetic perfection!”

“You only saw him for like ten seconds,” Sam argued.

“That’s all I need. I can spot flawlessness.”

Sam rolled her eyes instantly wishing she hadn’t told Megan about the kiss. This was the kind of thing she wouldn’t let go. Sam flopped onto her stomach and got comfy, preparing for Megan’s speech about fate and star-crossed lovers.

Devon

Devon lay in bed, fuming. He kept replaying his conversation with Sam over in his head.

Start over?

What the hell was she talking about?

Devon didn’t want to start over. And he certainly couldn’t pretend that kiss didn’t happen. It was still wreaking havoc on his body. That kiss was the best thing that had happened to him in a while. No way in hell was he going to forget about it.

Sam could stand there and say she didn’t know him as much as she wanted, but he knew it was a load of bollocks. How could he remember everything about her and she remember nothing? This thing between them couldn’t be one-sided. Could it?

Even if it was, it didn’t change the facts. Devon was in love with Sam. He’d always thought maybe it was just some weird childhood crush—lingering first love or something like that. But now that Sam was actually here and he’d kissed her, he knew it was real.

Devon had never felt anything so consuming in all his life. He’d kissed dozens of girls—hell more like hundreds. But nothing compared to kissing Sam. And he didn’t know what it was if it wasn’t love. He tried to remember what it was like kissing those other girls, but it was all one big blur—a white noise of lips.

Then, he tried to remember kissing Sam. It was more like trying not to remember. That kiss stormed his memory like an electrical current. It’d always been like that with Sam. He didn’t have to try with her. She consumed him effortlessly.

He tried to remember how it happened—what pivotal moment turned her from childhood crush to heart wrenching love interest. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. All he knew was that Sam Connors was the only thing that mattered to him. And perhaps it had always been that way.

That settled it. Devon wasn’t going to give up that easily. He pulled on his favorite jumper and slipped into the hall. In four quick strides he was standing in front of Sam’s door. He took a deep breath and psyched himself up to knock. Do or die, Devon—it was something he said to himself before every football match, and it had inadvertently become his mantra for focus and success.

Devon was about to knock on the door when he heard Sam’s voice coming from within. He leaned closer to listen. She was talking to someone. Maybe on the phone? Devon felt creepy eavesdropping and was about to knock before he overheard something he shouldn’t—his name. His hand stopped midair.

“God, I can’t believe you kissed Devon!” a shrill female voice said. “I seriously hate you so much right now.”

“Well don’t,” Sam answered and Devon’s heart jumped into his throat. Sam was talking about their kiss! It must have meant something to her too if she was talking about it.

“Why? Is he a bad kisser?” the other voice asked.

“No, but I’m not interested in Devon. I told you, he made my life hell when I lived here. He’s half the reason I didn’t want to come back to Ireland. I honestly wish he’d just back off. The only thing I want right now is a ticket back to Boston.”

Devon’s heart thudded to his feet and his resolve crumbled. He never knew words could hurt so badly. He quickly retreated to his room before he overheard more soul-crushing words from Sam.

Once inside, Devon shut his door and leaned against it trying to catch his breath. How could this be happening? Were he and Sam really over before they even started?

He slid to the floor and hung his head between his knees. He felt woozy. How the hell had his life gotten so messed up? In one year, he’d gone from having it all—a girlfriend, friends, football, his father, a future full of opportunities. And now . . . well now it just felt like everything was slipping away.

Eggsy hopped off the bed and came over to console Devon. The massive dog flopped down at his feet. Devon pulled Eggsy’s head into his lap, burying his face in his thick coat, wishing he could go back to the life he’d taken for granted.